


A Demon in the Mist

by N_Blackman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Blackman/pseuds/N_Blackman
Summary: Angels and Demons, she thinks them, fighting for the right to rule. Nothing like that night at the Ministry, these are trained warriors, not desperate escapees. This story takes place just before sixth book, A/U. Similar to CITM, but different storyline and ending. Bellamione.





	1. Caught in the Mist

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for adults only. Also contains child abuse, rape and violence.

Dear Harry,

I wonder if you know what has happened, how much did the Order tell you? Maybe at this stage, you don't know everything, I think that may be for the best. Perhaps you find it amusing the only items I managed to keep with me is a scroll and quill. Even at times like this, I manage to keep a book as well, I wish though, I had more.

The sad thing is, I don't think you will receive this letter. I fear it will vanish to be forgotten, never found again. I try not to let my mind dwell on this, I keep telling myself I will be back at Hogwarts in time for the new term. A part of me wonders why they allow me this luxury, why I'm allowed to write, maybe they know I'm not coming back.

For years you know I always wondered why I was sorted into Gryffindor. You always managed to reassure me, always found a reason why, but now. The truth is. I'm scared, I am so, very scared. I don't know where we're going, where we are or what is happening. I'm not allowed my wand, I'm only allowed food and water.

Please don't worry the others, don't worry Ron or Ginny, I will be home soon, I'm sure. I'll think of a way. I love you, you're the brother I wish I had, I'm coming home soon. I promise, just keep going defeat you know who. End this.

With all my love,

Hermione.

Through the haze of smoke, she watches silently as the fire crackles, spitting into the dark night of the forest. The pressure inside her chest has become unbearable, the urge to cry is over powering. Still, she remains emotionless, a coldness creeping in despite the charm to keep them warm.

The smoke spirals upwards, the smell clinging to her jacket, a jacket that is not her own. She is under no illusion the person who once owned the jacket is dead, she wonders if it's an omen. A promise of her future to come, wearing a dead man's jacket. She hates Trelawney with a passion, but even she can admit there is a chill in the air. An omen lingering on her shoulders

As a child, she loved bonfires, bbqs but hated the smell of smoke, always first to shower, to throw her washing in the machine. Her mother watching fondly as she cleaned her own clothes, if she were a Griffindor through and through she would ask her mother. Why the sad smile? Why did she look with regret quickly hidden by amusement? Was it to do with the fire they had when she was younger? When she was barely old enough to stand, the fire that crippled her grandfather? Absently, she wonders if she will ever get the chance to ask?

A loud crack echoes throughout the deadly quiet forest, no birds or creatures to speak off. A niggling fear prickles the back of her neck the urge to turn and look almost unbearable. The feeling of eyes on her, she refuses to look, refuses to give in to the fear.

The dried blood on her chin has become uncomfortable, nothing in comparison to the ache from her split lip. The urge to wipe the blood has become the constant fight to ignore it for as long as possible. If she wipes the blood away, this will all become real the last several hours will become real. She will no longer be able to pretend it is all a bad nightmare. To pretend the monster sleeping a few feet away is just figment of her imagination. If she tries hard enough, she can believe anything, if she were a Gryffindor she wouldn't hide. But she always suspected the hat was wrong because all she can feel right now is agonising fear. Fear so crippling, she can barely breath. She wants nothing more than to hug her mother, cry and to wake from this nightmare. She is the brightest witch of her age though, Hermione Granger trapped in a forest with a creature that was once human and a forest full of monsters. Still, she feels the charm protecting them is not for their benefit, because the monster is sleeping peacefully only a few feet away, a small smile on their face despite the devastation left in their wake.

Several Hours earlier…

She was not the target, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A tour around the Ministry, distracted by Tonks and her whole life changed in a matter of seconds. They were searching through the woods, Tonks had lost something her Auror friends helping search. They are going to head to the nearby village for a drink afterwards. Tonks had promised to drop Hermione home, not allowing the witch to Apparate alone, despite having a license and being old enough.

Hermione didn't argue it's boring at home, she has read every book expected for their next term, waiting for the day she could go to the burrow. Waiting to see the boys, wondering if Harry was okay and the Dursleys were looking after him. Wondering how he is feeling after Sirius death, hoping he is coping.

There was no warning, the sky ripped apart, a terrifying light blinding her momentarily. She stumbles into a tree, finding cover, just in time. Opening her eyes to the shouting, the chaos of fighting, Death Eaters. Spells dance through the air with frightening speed, clashing and crashing together. Angels and Demons, she thinks them, fighting for the right to rule. Nothing like that night at the Ministry, these are trained warriors, not desperate escapees.

She pulls her wand shakily from it's hiding place, stepping from cover, ready to face the masked demons, ready to help. When a hand grabs her arm, a red faced Tonks, cut lacings her eye brow. Hermione has never seen the witch so… full of life. Adrenalized by the fight, Tonks is talking but, Hermione's ears are ringing.

Seconds later they're moving, Tonks's hand pulling Hermione along, but not towards the fight. Leading her away, from the hill and the showering of spells. Towards the safety in the distance, Tonks never releasing her hold, never stopping but still talking.

"We can't!" Hermione forces her voice to work, her mind slowly catching up. "We cannot leave them!"

"My job is to keep you safe. Now move, they cannot find you here, your too valuable."

More valuable than any Auror? She fails to believe it, no one is more important than another. She wouldn't just leave Tonks people, she couldn't let Tonks leave her colleagues. If she must Hermione will find her own way home. If she is not allowed to fight the least she can do is release Tonks from her burden. To allow the Auror to return to the battle.

The hot summers night breaks apart with the crash of thunder, the rain breaking from the clouds, drenching them all instantly. Her clothes dragging her down, the mud sucking at their feet, their retreat hindered by the storm.

Yanking her arm free, Hermione prepares her speech, as Tonks whirls on her. Annoyed, Tonks runs a hand through her hair, pushing it from her face, lines of worry etched near her eyes.

"Mione'." Tonks groans.

"We can't leave, Tonks, they're your people. Let me go, you can help…"

"Shush."

"Tonks." Hermione protests, as Tonks views their surroundings.

"NO! Shush, get behind a tree, now."

Not questioning, Hermione slinks behind a tree, as Tonks casts a spell, she nods her head in reassurance. Inching closer to the open she eyes the tree line. Clutching the bark of the tree, Hermione watches, wondering what Tonks has heard. Turning, back to Hermione, Tonks shrugs her spells not detecting anyone nearby.

Neither of them anticipates the next few minutes that change everything. Tonks wand lifting in slow motion, Hermione watching with her breath stuck in her throat, unable to break the spell they seem to be stuck in. The curse strikes Tonks straight on the chest sending the witch hurtling backwards. Hermione's mind flashes back to the shock on Sirius's face moments before he fell through the veil.

The breath breaks from her mouth as Tonks hits the muddy ground, rain pelting her limp form. Breathless, Hermione stares at Tonks praying that the witch is still alive. Turning she searches for the attacker, her heart jamming to a stop at the sight as a Death Eater emerges from the shadows.

A cruel laugh echoes loudly as though a force of nature on it's own. It rebounds in Hemione's mind resonating, freezing her blood and turning her urge to fight in to a motion to flee. It's a sound she wished to never hear again, the black insane curls untouched by the rain emerges first. Immaculate dress and corset untouched by the dirt around them swallows the remaining light. A sadistic smile grazing cruel lips, dark untouchable eyes focussing on the Tonks on the ground.

"What do we have here?" They taunt. "My dear niece just what I wanted to find."

Terror strikes Hermione still, pressing her back against the tree, hiding her from view. Her hands shake as Sirius's death replays on repeat in her mind. Peeking, Hermione watches a boot nudge Tonks's arm. A sadistic smile lacing pale lips.

Do something, I have to do something. She wants to, wants to run to Tonks's rescue, but she cannot take the Death Eater in a duel. A plan forms, she has no one to tell it to, no boys to tell her it's crazy, but it's the best plan she has. A distraction so she can save Tonks and run.

With a complicated flourish of her wand, she whispers the spell, pointing straight at the Death Eater. Smiling, Hermione watches the ground kick dirt, as the spell hurtles along with the force of a tornado. It gathers, momentum as it clashes with the barrier protecting the witch who stumbles back. Mud and rain pelting the shield, blinding the witch from Hermione.

Darting from cover, Hermione runs past the tornado attacking the Death Eater. Clutching, Tonks's face Hermione presses her wand next to the Auror's temple.

"Rennervate."

Jolting, Tonks snaps awake. staring at Hermione groggily. Eyes falling to the Death Eater currently under attack from a freak storm.

"We need to go now." Hermione orders. "It won't last long."

Nodding, Tonks crawls to her feet, wobbly, Hermione helps the witch along. Glancing behind to find the Death Eater glaring at them. Urging Tonks along, Hermione tries to ignore the fear itching beneath her skin. Ignores the scream of anger, as the air explodes with magic, mud drenching their backs. Tonks casting a protection charm they head for the safety of the forest, past the appariation barrier.

It's the sharp lacing pain in her shoulder, that warns her that her plan has failed, as a hand pulls her away from Tonks. Her face hits the muddy ground, hears the gasp of pain from Tonks. Pushing from the ground, Hermione jumps to her feet, wiping the dirt from her face.

"Ah dear Aunt," Tonks greets prepared for a duel. "What do I owe the honour?"

A short cackle, as Bellatrix stalks both of them, the Death Eater outnumbered, yet Hermione feels they are at a disadvantage. They are the ones at risk, not Bellatrix Lestrange who appears to be enjoying the whole situation.

"I came for you, thought we could spend some quality time together." Bellatrix grins, gaze disregarding Tonks and turning to Hermione. "However, your friend appears more interesting."

Almost as though a bolt strikes her, Tonks turns worried eyes to Hermione, renewed with a sense of protectiveness. Stepping in front of Hermione, Tonks stares her aunt down who seems merely amused by the whole situation. The curved wand rolling between long fingers, boots squish in the mud as Bellatrix circles.

"If you see an opportunity, head for safety don't argue." Tonks hisses, eyes solely focussed on Bellatrix.

"Nymph."

"We can't win this, we can only run. I'll be right behind you."

Doubt festers, Hermione not believing the witch, knows that Tonks is willing to sacrifice herself. They wouldn't even be here If Hermione hadn't asked to see the witch. She clutches her own wand, she cannot allow Tonks to sacrifice herself. Cannot allow this demon to win, not after she killed Sirius, killed Hermione's friend.

Bellatrix's lips twitch, a spell unleashed, weak it hits Tonks's defence fizzling away to nothing. Another follows and Hermione realises Bellatrix is testing Tonks defence, looking for a weakness. Realising this too, Tonks attacks, she lashes out her stunning spell reflected with a casual swish of the hand.

"You were at the Ministry, weren't you?" Bellatrix voice breaks the tension eyes focused solely on Hermione. "Potter's mudblood."

Flinching at the slur, Hermione almost recoils at the amount of disgust that rolls of Bellatrix, but the word said with casual indifference. It's a conundrum, she almost misses Draco, at least he showed emotion, to Bellatrix the statement feels more of a fact. A casual reminder of her blood status, that she is the lowest of the low.

A flash of yellow breaks through the air, cutting the droplets of rain into nothingness, it strikes Tonks shield. Shoes sinking into the mud from the force, a manic grin inches across Bellatrix's face. Sweating, Tonks holds the attack hand shaking under the force of the spell.

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouts, her spell narrowly missing Bellatrix who steps aside.

"Hermione!" Tonks snaps.

She knows, she is meant to be running, but not now. Dodging the hex, Hermione steps aside, the spell hitting a tree. Tonks attacks, engaging Bellatrix, who easily deflects. Joining in, Hermione tries to keep up with the two witches, the spells clashing in the night. The sky dancing with horrifying colours, red blending with purple. White ghosting across the ground, Bellatrix moves with the skill of duellist.

Sweat dripping down her spine, Hermione feels her stamina failing her. A strong hex forces her backwards, her defence nothing against Bellatrix casual attacks.

"Did I hurt the widdle Muddy's feelings?" Bellatrix taunts her spell clipping the tree next to Tonks's head. "What's wrong dear niece, sad? How's dear Sirius… Oh yes, he's dead."

A yell leaves Tonks lips, her foot slipping in the mud, however, her spell never faulters. It leaves with such force even Hermione jumps aside as Bellatrix reflects. A nearby tree explodes bark hitting them all. It's this moment Hermione realises their mistake, watches the cruel smile manifest. Tonks panting, several feet away, Bellatrix has managed to divide them. To get between them, a look of disbelief crosses Tonks face as she catches Hermione eye over Bellatrix's shoulder.

"Run!" Tonks orders, releasing another spell.

Hermione doesn't wait to be told twice, she turns running for the distant tree line. Shivering at the intensity of the fight behind her, relief floods her as she spots the trees. As her feet touch the grass, she doesn't look back.

"Hermione!"

An arm wraps around her throat, choking, her feet slip on the wet grass. The forearm tightening, she sees stars. A hand snatching her wand, she grasps at the arm binding her to the cold body behind. Lifted from the ground, she finds herself turning against her will, back to the open. Flinches as a spell hurtles towards them, Bellatrix reflects it back catching Tonks on the side. The witch tumbling to her knees.

"Tonks!" Hermione gasps air failing her.

Her elbow moves back on it's own will striking the witch in the ribs. A small flinch is the only indication it makes contact. The Death Eater refuses to let go, a slight tighten on her throat warns her not to try again.

"Now what dear Niece?" Bellatrix taunts.

Hermione grows still as the curved wand presses to her neck. The arm loosening, she sucks in air, spluttering as her lungs struggle with the increase of oxygen. Frozen, Tonks stares unsure how to act, her decision is made for her. The sound of approaching voices, more Death Eaters heading their way.

"Go." Hermione croaks.

"Run, little one, run away." Bellatrix mocks.

"Hermione, I'll be back," Tonks promises.

Smiling, Hermione watches Tonks turn for safety, disappearing into the tree line leaving Hermione trapped in the demon's arms. Closing her eyes, she waits, waits for the others to join them, for the savagery to start. Can only imagine the torture she is to endure.

Hands drag her backwards, her feet tripping over themselves, as Bellatrix pulls her into the darkness of the trees. Hidden, wand still tight against her neck it pulls away. The tip lighting up, a spell released under silence. Confused, Hermione doesn't resist as the wand touches her flesh once more. Is she going to be a surprise for the Death Eaters? Is Bellatrix waiting on someone else?

Heart beating uncontrollably as the sound of others get louder, the masks glinting through the trees. She tries to ignore the shake and the panic attack setting in. She feels faint, cold and confused, she clutches the arm holding her in place.

"Breathe," Bellatrix hisses against her ear startling her. "Breathe girl, good. Now be a good mudblood, stay quiet and don't move."

Greyback crashes into the clearing making Hermione jump and the arm tighten around her neck. She watches as the Death Eaters emerge, chatting amongst themselves. A few remove their masks, laughing, Hermione refuses the urge to throw up at the sight of blood on their robes. They watch silently as the group banter between themselves.

Growing still, Bellatrix pulls her wand from Hermione's throat. This is it, she is going to be thrown in front of the others. A trophy of sorts, perhaps Bellatrix wishes to show off. Mud squelches next to them, inches from their hiding place, it's when Hermione realises Greyback is narrowing in on them. The wand points towards the Werewolf, the tip of the wand the only hint of a spell. Greybacks eyes glaze, blinking he turns back to the others, their hiding spot undiscovered.

It's the change of temperature that warns her of a new presence, the air almost splinters apart. A tug of darkness touches her own magical core, sharp nails dig into her neck. She winces, at the pain which turns numb as another enters the clearing. Voldemort.

She feels the air leave her lungs, shrinking slightly into the form behind as Voldemort emerges. Harry had not done the creature justice in the description, something unholy has happened to the wizard. Dark magic, it has mingled with his soul, it makes her wonder just what Voldemort has done to become this creature.

Please, please don't turn me over to him. Hermione pleads, pleads to any higher being listening. Black robes billow as the Death Eaters gather around Voldemort, summoned before the devil itself. She doesn't realise she's almost vibrating in fear until the arm relaxes on her throat.

"Hush," Bellatrix whispers against her ear.

She hates herself for relaxing slightly in Bellatrix's embrace. To relax in the embrace of a monster, the one responsible for Neville's parents, for Sirius's death. Still, she finds some comfort being next to the witch in the presence of Voldemort. Perhaps because next to Dumbledore, Bellatrix is the only other known being to survive a duel against Voldemort.

"Where is Bellatrix?" Voldemort demands, his voice stopping any talk.

Closing her eyes, Hermione waits for Bellatrix to throw her in front of the creature. Expects to be a gift of some sort, a leverage to get to Harry. Except, nothing happens. Bellatrix remains quiet merely watching as Voldemort grows impatient looking at his followers expectantly.

"Where is Lestrange?" Voldemort demands again.

"Rodolphus is torturing an Auror, my lord."

"Typical," Bellatrix mutters.

"Summon them."

The words send ice down Hermione's spine, watching as the tattoo on Bellatrix arm writhers. The Dark mark squirming, the witch becomes still behind her, fingers digging into Hermione, who holds in the gasp. It burns red, as the sound of apparitating distracts Hermione as the Lestrange brothers appear. Watches as confusion morphs on Voldemort's face realising that Bellatrix is not appearing. A murmur breaking from some Death Eaters, Hermione refuses to look at the witch behind. Does not want to imagine the pain coursing through the witch's arm.

"She fails to respond, my Lord," Dolohovan speaks.

"Where is she, Lestrange?" Voldemort demands from the brothers.

"We split up my Lord, she spotted the Tonks girl," Rodolphus replies, looking to his brother who shrugs.

"Maybe she's done a runner." Greyback spits.

Hermione flinches as curse strikes a wizard, watches the body crumple to the ground. The guttural screaming making Hermione squirm. The man withering on the ground, begging for mercy. Turning, Hermione looks away from the torture and away from Bellatrix who is watching with fascination. A tear escapes her, she focuses instead on the tree next to them. The little caterpillar slowly inching across the trunk.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Shivering, Hermione turns to the scene of the dead man laying on the ground, she realises it's an Auror. One of Tonks's friends, dead. It feels unnatural, the air torn apart by dark magic, she wipes her eyes. Feels the slight chuckle from Bellatrix. Feels her heart drop, a coldness setting in.

She feels faint, but it's not the scene in front of her, looking down she realises she is bleeding. Adrenaline fading, she is accurately aware of the throbbing pain in her side. The blood mixing with the rain, it runs freely down her side, soaking her hoody. Stumbling, she feels Bellatrix tighten her arms, the hiss of annoyance.

Head falling back, it lands on the shoulder behind, she feels sick. Barely acknowledges Bellatrix's annoyed glare, feels the witch look down. The long uncontrollable hair covering Hermione's face, as the Death Eater finds Hermione's wound.

"Faint now and you will regret it," Bellatrix warns, forcing Hermione to open her eyes.

Hermione almost yelps as a hand presses against her wound, constant pressure to help stop the flow of blood. Hermione feels it's a loosing battle, watching through hazy eyes as the Death Eaters discuss the fight.

The order to leave is passed, they vanish instantly, leaving only Voldemort, whose gaze turns to their location. Bellatrix grows still, neither witch breathing, neither wanting to attract the attention of the Wizard. Hermione is under no illusion, Bellatrix is the only thing stopping her from collapsing.

He apparates, both witches relaxing. Breathing, Hermione goes to push away from the witch, but the hands fail to loosen.

"Oh no, filth." The voice low with the promise of pain. "You're mine."

Present Day…

A sharp kick to the ribs wakes her, jolting she rolls over to find Bellatrix looking down at her. She must have fallen asleep reminiscing. She almost wishes it's a bad dream. Her eyes falling on her letter, no not a bad dream, unfortunately, it's all real.

Pushing herself up, she collects her small belongings, nearly a whole day Bellatrix has had her, still, she remains unwise as to what they are doing. First few hours she spent unconscious, Bellatrix neglecting to heal her side till the last minute. Now they remain in the middle of the forest, Bellatrix pouring over a map. The sun barely risen, Hermione grabs a plate of food left for her eating slowly, she watches the witch.

"What have I told you about staring Muddy."

Hermione barely acknowledges the insult, simply eats her food. Plotting a way to escape, she acts the subdued little witch. Satisfied as Bellatrix sulks at the lack of reply.

Waiting patiently, Hermione holds on to her small number of objects as Bellatrix gathers her items. Doesn't flinch as Bellatrix hand coils around her elbow.

"I almost miss your defiant little mouth." Bellatrix taunts.

The defiant mouth that earned her a backhand earlier that day, or the one that earned her a curse. A curse for pointing out Hermione's blood was the same as Bellatrix's. The death eater not so keen on the reminder was quick to remind Hermione of her place.

Sighing, Bellatrix apparates them away. They arrive feet first in the snow, a cold biting wind taking their breath away. Hermione rummages in her bag for the coat Bellatrix kindly reminded her belonged to another. Cursing, Bellatrix pulls the map from her pocket.

Studying their surroundings, Hermione notices nothing but emptiness, except for the mount behind Bellatrix. In the distance, she notices the small smoke in the air, people, civilization. However, Bellatrix is looking the other way towards another forest.

"Fucking hate maps," Bellatrix grumbles. "Filth hold this,"

Accepting the map on instinct, Bellatrix regards her with curiosity, as she stands immobile waiting for orders. Digging into her bag, Bellatrix retrieves a book.

"Hold the map out."

She does so, obeying without thinking, luring Bellatrix into a false sense of security. Looking in her bag, Bellatrix retrieves another item, before studying the map again, using her compass as a guide. Snapping the compass shut she pockets it, opening the bag she carefully places the book inside, distracted by the job at hand.

Acting on instinct, Hermione charges the witch her shoulder hitting Bellatrix in the stomach knocking the air from her. The Death Eater stumbles backwards, the snow giving way as she falls over the embankment. Crushing the map into her pocket, Hermione turning and runs for the town in the distance, ignoring the shrill scream of annoyance chasing after her. She has no wand, only the act of surprise. She will have to run for her life.


	2. Icy Introductions

The moment Bellatrix doesn't follow, Hermione knows she has made a grave mistake.

Her ankle twists as her feet touch the hard ground, the soft snow giving way to an unforgiving surface. The biting chill of the wind cuts into her cheeks, she aches. Focussed on the distance she dares not look back dares not to look at the demon.

Temptation wins, a swift glance she finds Bellatrix watching from the side, recovered from the shove. Wand in hand, she merely watches Hermione run away, not chasing. The thought scares Hermione more than it should, terrified she forces her feet to run faster.

It's the piercing crack that causes her heart to stutter, panic to set in. The ground shifts, it's a realisation too late that she is running over a lake. Ice the only thing protecting her from falling into the dark depths below.

She turns, heading to the shore line to the left to the safety of the frozen bank. Can feel the splintering of ice beneath her feet the ground shifting.

Crack.

The ground gives way a jagged line opening beneath her feet throwing her to the ice. She scrambles even as the ice breaks away her legs slipping first hands grasping for purchase. A panicked cry she clutches at the ice trying to stop her descent. Her clothes act as an anchor pulling her down to the dark depths, she flails in panic.

Slipping, her nails breaking as they give way, the water tugs at her turning her body numb. A shape approaches walking towards her, a wand rolling between black gloves. Hermione stares at the witch, refusing to ask for help, not from the likes of Lestrange.

The ice breaks.

She falls into the darkness no time to gasp for air, the water rushes to greet her, clinging to her. The ice cold depths she struggles to move, her clothes extra weight her feet kick uselessly trying to reach for the hole in the ice. She tries not to panic as her throat constricts for air, her eyes wild she stares up at the light coming through the hole.

A dark shadow watches her sink, Hermione's hand shoots up one last attempt to reach the surface begging for help. Her pride damaged she wills the Dark witch to reach in even as her last breath trickles from her lips. The shadow becomes a blur and the ice is no longer unbearable.

She drifts deeper, an air bubble, her last piece of air slipping from her lips. I don't want to die…

Six weeks earlier…

A book resting in her lap she watches the students in the distance, sitting on the stone wall. Her quill tapping against her lips, the school celebrating Dumbledore's return and the riddance of the pink menace. Its joy mixed with a pang of sadness, the wizarding world has learned of Voldemort's return.

A strange fear lingers in the air, the laughter not meeting the eyes, in truth Hermione feels the anticipation in the air. She's scared too, scared for Harry for what's in store for them, but she believes in Dumbledore and in the Order.

Another sadness tinges in her heart, she has lost a friend. A stranger turned friend, she knows this is the reason she cannot finish her homework. Her potions left abandoned, she thinks of Sirius. The horror on his face as the spell hits his chest. Harry's unearthly cry, it still brings tears to her now.

"Hey," Speaking of Harry, she turns a tired smile to her friend approaching.

"Hey," She greets patting the wall next to her.

He takes a seat next to her, shoulders rubbing she leans her head on his shoulder for support. It's selfish Harry is the one who has lost his Godfather yet here she is seeking comfort. She wonders where Ron is? She knows he took Sirius death hard, this is no longer a joke, a laugh. They had lost a friend, someone had died and they barely managed to survive the skirmish. Ron will take it the hardest, yet he won't show it. Always the friend, always laughing, she worries about him.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asks.

"I should be asking you that."

Shrugging, Harry plucks a weed from the wall, pulling it apart he stares absently towards the school. Patiently, Hermione waits for him to continue, watching Hufflepuffs play a game in the distance a far cry from the hell they survived.

"Honestly, I feel slightly relieved." She frowns she hadn't expected that answer. "I mean, I miss him, my friend and the only family I had. However, his free now, no longer trapped in the chains cast to him by society. His not hiding in his house, fearful. I think he'd rather be free. "

"That's beautiful."

"Thanks," Harry smiles. "I miss him like crazy, I wish he was here, but…"

"His no longer suffering."

"Yeah." Harry nods throwing away the weed. "How about you? How you holding up?"

"To be expected," Hermione replies. "I miss him."

"I can't believe how close you guys were, he loved you like a daughter."

"He was a good guy, he used to talk to me when I'd stay up late doing school work. We used to share stories, I think he got me. I wasn't just a muggleborn to him, he understood my apprehension about being in Gryffindor. He explained his own, how he wasn't sure if he was sorted into the right house, that the hat made a mistake. I think it was just easier, he understood. He would always bring up us saving him. That if I'm willing to risk everything important to me, to save a stranger, surely that makes me a Gryffindor. I miss him so much."

"Same."

"I never did figure him out, I think he would be disappointed he never got to set the record straight."

"Did you ever figure out what he was talking about?"

"No, he would never say. He just said he owed it to someone, that he let them down, they all let them down. That he couldn't let them down again."

"I wonder who he meant? Maybe his brother."

"Maybe, who knows. It haunted him though, he would always stare at the family tree, just stare at day and night. Shaking his head, I don't know what he wanted to fix, but he wanted to."

She doesn't say any more, doesn't mention the night Sirius had a few drinks staring into the fire. Dried tear streaks, hands shaking relieving a memory, she had disturbed his peace. He had looked at her sadly, patting Hermione's hand as he watched the flames.

"Would you do something for me, Hermione?" He had asked to the fire, not to her face. "You can say no,"

"What is it?" She asked watching his cracked hands softly squeeze hers in return.

"A long time ago, I let someone down. We all did. We let them down, I let them down. We were wrong, I was wrong and it haunts me. If something were to happen to me, promise me, you won't do the same. Promise me, promise you won't let them down as I did."

"Of course."

"Your too good."

Closing her book, she leans away from Harry, she would do anything for Harry, she would look over him as Sirius requested. She can only imagine the guilt he holds is for James and Lily. She will look after Harry she promised Sirius, who was she to break a promise.

Present day…

It's cold where she drifts, nothing but darkness surrounding her. She feels a strange tug, something pulling against her, dragging her towards the blinding light. Blinking she finds herself standing alone in pure whiteness… no emptiness.

She feels no fear, nothing, relaxed she wanders the emptiness looking for an answer. Click. Pausing she hears the gentle click of a stick. A warmth fills her a smell of sweetness in the air, the aroma of baking cakes, sends her back to a childhood memory. Visiting her nan on a Saturday, the weekend learning to stitch or cook.

A tear slips down her cheek she turns to face a woman she thought she would never see again. Her nana, walking towards her a warm smile on her face.

"Nana."

"My little cub, how you've grown." A hand cradles her own.

"What, how is this possibly?" Pausing, Hermione realises the horrible truth. "I'm dead?"

"You have crossed over yes."

"Already?"

Disappointment takes hold, a weight bearing down on her. She had so many plans, wanted to do so much and here she was dead. Because of the demon, because of that witch. Anger pulses a strong vibrant emotion, it rocks everything.

"For a short time, you are. Fear not, your time hasn't come yet. A small blip in the road, we all die a little."

"I'm going back?"

"Shortly, time passes differently here. An eternity here, a few minutes back in the world of the living."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"Tell you what child?" Her nana asks, taking a seat on a white bench.

"That you're a witch… I never knew until your funeral when I inherited your wand. You gave me the book on the History of Hogwarts."

"I made a promise to your father, he wasn't sure if you were the same as me. He didn't want to influence you, it made no difference giving you the book. If you were a muggle the book would be fiction. I knew though, hard not to."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too my love."

"Does my Gerry still play golf?"

"Yeah, dad does."

"Is he still awful."

Smiling, Hermione nods frowning as the air begins to rush around her. A loud whistling noise almost defeating, a hand pats her arm. This is good bye, life is calling her back.

"Don't die in the trials you will be trapped for ever."

"What trials?"

"Don't die, just remember time cannot be erased no how much we wish it to."

The wind becomes deafening muffling Hermione's reply, a sharp pull.

Air rushes back into her lungs, she jerks spluttering, rolling on to her side she expels the water trapped in her body. Coughing, she clutches her aching ribs drowsy she lies still. Her head aches, her lungs struggle for air and her body feels distant.

The crunching of snow brings her attention to the two boots a few feet away. Blinking, Hermione realises Bellatrix is pacing nearby, staring at the compass in her hands. With a groan, Hermione rolls on to her back staring up to the white sky.

Her mind struggles to remember, the only sound is the cracking of ice, the water rushing into her lungs. She clutches her dry jacket studying the trees above.

Snow taps against her cheek as boots come to rest next to her, dark eyes staring down at her. Bellatrix studying her, Hermione resists the urge to give the witch a piece of her mind.

"Welcome back." Bellatrix greets.

"I died," Hermione croaks.

"Yep,"

"You saved me?"

"I wouldn't go that far filth, you took the map down with you. IF you hadn't, I would have left you to become a popsicle. Besides I need you alive."

"Why?"

"You ask that now? Not before running on to a lake covered in ice, I thought you were meant to be smart."

"Your meant to be a psychopath and you saved me."

A boot lands heavily on her chest, pressing down. Pain rockets through her body, stealing a yelp, her hands clutch the ankle trying to prevent the witch from pressing on her delicate ribs. Kneeling, Bellatrix sneers her weight pushing on to her ribs.

"Even a psychopath has a use for a filthy mongrel." Bellatrix spits. "Your death is not required at this stage. I will let you know when I no longer need you breathing, until that stage. You are mine filth; your life is in my hands."

"Please," Hermione gasps trying to push the boot from her chest.

"Hmm, I like you begging, it means you know your place. A small reminder pet, I may have revived you, does not mean there won't be bruises covering your chest. Magic works faster but will still leave some marks. I could heal them, but I think you need a reminder should you have any further ideas of running."

The foot retracts, she chokes on the air, sitting up she cradles her delicate chest. Hating the witch for not healing her properly, for leaving her weak. Hating herself for the foolish plan and for allowing herself to become so vulnerable.

A curse leaves dark lips, Hermione flinches as the compass smashes against a tree, a frustrated kick at the snow. Crawling backwards she relaxes against a tree, watching Bellatrix place the map against the snow.

Eyeing the bottle of water, she wonders if it's worth asking for, wonders if she should even attempt to engage the angry witch with a request. What are they even here for? What does Bellatrix hope to gain from dragging Hermione along?

"Why are we here?" Hermione croaks unable to stay in the dark any longer.

A vicious hand pauses mid-way, no longer tracing the map as the gaze switches focus. Swallowing, Hermione tries to ignore the tremble in her body, pretends it's because she's cold. At least Bellatrix dried her clothes, but if she's needed alive even Bellatrix understands she may die of hyperthermia.

"We're searching for something," Bellatrix answers distractedly.

"Searching for what?"

"It's none of your business."

"You made it my business when you kidnapped me,"

"Filthy little."

"No," Hermione interrupts pushing to her feet ignoring the pain in her chest. "You dragged me on to this little quest, you were after Tonks. So why am I here? What are we looking for?"

"You don't get to demand." Bellatrix hisses stalking towards Hermione. "You dare interrupt me again I will bury you in that ice."

"Go ahead." Hermione spits. "You admitted you need me alive though, so you tell me what we're looking for and maybe we can actually get the job done."

"You don't even know what we're doing?"

"No offence, but it seems you don't know either."

Like a viper, a hand snaps around her chin, the wand pressing against her throat. Despite the pounding heart, Hermione holds the death stare levelled at her, tries not to shrink under the gaze. A hex makes her gasp, it burns her shoulder leaving no mark, only agonising pain. Releasing a gasp, a tear slips forbidden from her eye. The monstrous smirk grows bigger, poisonous lips poised for the attack.

"You can curse me," Hermione grinds out, ignoring the pain. "You can belittle me, but get one thing straight Lestrange. The only thing that really hurts me is stupidity. Watching you trying to understand whatever the map is telling you is painful. It hurts."

The hand clenches, nails cutting into skin, her back hits the bark of the tree. The tip of the wand lights and she thinks she may have just pushed Bellatrix over the edge. Maybe she wants to die, to be free of this burden. Free from this Demon.

"You have balls filth," Bellatrix praises, the wand traces her cheek almost soothingly if it wasn't for the painful shock that follows. "If I tell you, then what?"

"I help you find whatever your after and you let me go my own way – alive and with my sanity."

"You're in no position to make demands."

"You need me alive."

"Not willing, however."

Swallowing, Hermione hadn't considered the imperious curse, had failed to consider that alternative. Bellatrix could curse her, could force her against her will. She remains strong, but she knows the panic is reflected in her eyes.

"Why?" Bellatrix asks.

"The sooner I help you the sooner I can go home."

The curved wand flashes once more, she flinches from the light, the hand leaving her chin. She expects the crucio, expects terrible pain. Nothing happens, opening her eyes, Bellatrix has walked away retrieving her map she reaches into her bag. Pulling out a book she regards Hermione, before handing the book over.

"Very well," Bellatrix answers as Hermione accepts the book timidly. "Call it a deal if you must. You help me get what I want and I will let you leave."

"Alive," Hermione replies toying with the book in her hands. "And sanity intact."

"I cannot promise the sanity." Bellatrix shrugs offering her hand.

"Sanity intact."

"Filth, I don't know what's ahead of us, I cannot promise that."

"Fine, you won't take my sanity."

A small shrug, swallowing, Hermione takes the outstretched hand, the cold skin wrapping around hers sealing her fate. Magic courses through the shake, a vow made, not an unbreakable vow, but a magical vow all the same. The promise to finish this task together. Except, Hermione feels as though she has made a deal with the devil.

Stretching the hand that shook, Hermione watches as Bellatrix takes a seat on the rocks sticking out the snow. A smirk never leaving her face. She feels dread sink in and she wonders since when has she started making hasty decisions. Panic tries to take over, she feels her chest restrict the urge to cry almost uncontrollable.

She forces it back taking deep breathes she turns away from the witch. The hand resting on her chest, she closes her eyes forcing calming breaths, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest. The calming effect almost instant.

Releasing the last breath, she considers her options, she cannot steal her wand back from Bellatrix. Cannot run away without Bellatrix knowing, cannot win against the witch. Her only escape is by helping Bellatrix achieve the mission. It will then be up to the dark witch whether or not she allows Hermione to live.

"Second thoughts?" Bellatrix taunts.

"No," Hermione answers, turning back to the witch. "What are you looking for?"

"The Sleeping Mosses."

The world almost spins from beneath her, slipping to her bum, Hermione takes a seat in the snow. Staring at Bellatrix for the first time, as though she truly has lost her mind. It's not possible, they're both going to die.

"You've heard of them, I'll take it?" Bellatrix says, bored as she flicks with her nails.

"It's impossible."

"Not if your me."

"No one has ever achieved it."

"Not true, no one ever remembers achieving it, true majority of people die attempting this. Or stay trapped forever in this task, but where's the fun in something if there's not a little risk."

"We're going to die."

"Filth, if we don't do this, we're both dead."

"Are you doing this for him? Is this some sick mission?"

"Yes and no."

"Lestrange."

"Filth."

Rubbing her forehead, Hermione studies the book in her hand. No, it is not a book it is a journal, she traces the spine with her finger earning a grimace from Bellatrix.

"Think carefully filth," Bellatrix warns resting her arms on thighs. "This is your last chance."

Frowning, Hermione wonders why the witch isn't warning her about getting her filth hands over the precious book. Instead, Bellatrix seems to be regarding Hermione in hidden regret.

Only the pure can take this journey,

Strength will wield true power,

The wisest will understand lost

Cruel actions will deliver the truth

And only then will you reach your heart's desire.

Very deep. Hermione thinks to herself, ignoring the dread that pools in her stomach. Only the pure, she is not pure in the eyes of a pure blood. She doesn't understand why Bellatrix has brought her along. Why Bellatrix was even considering Tonks, the only option is the sickest option. Will she be a sacrifice, she knows of ancient dark magic?

I, Reuel Sandor Black, shield to the Sleeping Mosses, pass forth my knowledge to any Black descendant worthy of the name. The trial will only reveal itself to those worthy, to those deemed strong enough. Should you fall, your passing will be marked on the ancient tombs of the trial and forgotten by the world. No Black will fail this trial, no one of pure will perish.

The trials are designed to test. Do not underestimate.

Closing the book, she stares at the witch in front of her, they are going to die on this foolishness. Pop. The book vanishes from her hands startling her, a loud pop echoes above. Climbing to her feet, Hermione wonders what is happening, flinching as Bellatrix rests an arm on her shoulder.

"Ah, so that's what it was waiting for." Bellatrix comments.

"What's happening."

"The trial is beginning…"

The ground shudders beneath their feet, the sky turning to the colour violet as a vortex opens above them. Ancient magic, she clings to Bellatrix's arm, the force of the magic pulling at her is terrifying.

She lands on her knees, hands touching dirt. Blinking she pushes to her feet stumbling she stares around an empty field an old barn abandoned. Bellatrix is already standing wand drawn the sky flickers before it returns to normal. The clouds floating past as though nothing is wrong.

"It begins," Bellatrix comments with a satisfied nod, her map turning to ash in her hands. "Finally."


	3. A River in the Sky

Trembling the teapot pours its liquid into the waiting chipped cup that has seen better days. The Phoenix watches with its beady eyes as the immanent object wanders around the room. Even the teapot can feel the tension in the air, the atmosphere thick with uncertainty.

Long fingers wrapped around the cup the hand plucks it from its saucer, thin lips sipping the tea. Another wizard paces by the window watching the grounds below, the full moon casting doubt on all decisions. The older wizard deep in thought the meeting leaving an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"The boy cannot find out," The old wizard orders hands clutching the railing. "Not yet, he can not learn none of them can. Not until I speak to him alone."

"You will collect Potter?"

"Yes, this has changed everything though. I will collect him in a couple weeks before school starts. I need his help with something."

A hand curls through the long beard almost soothingly as Dumbledore considers his options left. A spanner in his plan, he will have to alter.

"What of the girl? What of Granger?" Snape asks placing his cup down. "Bellatrix will not be kind."

"No, never the less Bellatrix is not known for predictability."

"You think she will spare Granger? Albus, surely you know what will happen to the girl."

"Bellatrix needs her for a reason. You heard Tonks, Bellatrix was after her, before she changed to Miss Granger. And you say Tom doesn't know what Bellatrix is planning?"

"He is very angry. The Lestrange brothers were questioned – extensively."

"What of Madam Malfoy?"

"It would appear her memory has been wiped."

"Bellatrix would not risk her sister's wellbeing. Nor would Tom want to enrage Bellatrix by hurting her, she will remain safe."

The phoenix stretches its wings, lifting from it's perch it vanishes up into the rafters of the room. Snape watches it fly away he cannot shake the concern, not for Miss Granger, he knows there is no hope for the girl not any more. Bellatrix will not spare her any mercy, but it troubles him. Bellatrix is the most loyal, Voldemort's most trusted and she has vanished.

"Are we certain Bellatrix isn't working on Tom's orders?" Dumbledore questions for the fourth time.

"Very certain, he seems… almost hurt by her betrayal." Snape replies flicking flint from his robe. "If that is possible."

"Tom holds Bellatrix in high regard, her loyalty knows no bounds. This is what makes the whole thing troubling."

"Your worried? Why? Bellatrix's betrayal means she is no longer a factor to consider. It makes the Dark Lord vulnerable." Snape asks leaning forward. The news of Bellatrix's betrayal has rocked two kings, one no longer having control of their queen.

"Ah my dear boy, I never feared Tom. His down fall will always be set. For Tom cannot comprehend love, he cannot connect. Will never understand the true strength of love, even after dying at Lily Potter's hands he still sees love as a weakness."

A flinch from Snape as he readjusts in his seat, demons running in his eyes. His mind going back to a time of pain, a reminder of what his actions caused.

"I'm not following Albus, what does this have to do with Bellatrix?" Snape questions as far as he was concerned not having Bellatrix questioning his loyalty has made his life easier.

"Very few people know Bellatrix's story, her actions against the Longbottom's has made her someone to fear. She became Voldemort's most loyal but her origins became insignificant."

"She's crazy," Snape replies.

"Maybe."

"I've been in the room with her and I can honestly say she is far from sane."

"Bellatrix is passionate, perhaps in the heat of the battle, one would class her as unstable. There is only one other beside myself who has beaten Tom in a duel."

"Bellatrix has?"

"Yes."

"This is why your worried?"

"Bellatrix is a formidable weapon, under control she is predictable. Her loyalty to Tom meant she would never sabotage his orders."

"Surely now we should be happy if Bellatrix has turned from the Dark Lord. It means he is weaker."

"Yes." Dumbledore nods, eyes flicking to the clock. "It means Tom is weaker, however, it also means an extraordinary talented witch is free. It troubles me, if she no longer is allied with Tom it could spell more trouble."

"Do we not know where she has gone?"

"I was contacted by a friend; an old tradition was performed. An ancient passage activated on the night of Miss Granger's kidnapping. However, they are unsure which passage opened. Very old magic, they are trying to find me more information. It could be a coincidence; however, I do not believe so. Something troubles me more, there was another prophecy to that of Harry's. I have heard of it but the prophecy was stolen from the Unforgivables. Not long before Bellatrix went to Azkaban."

"You think she took it?"

"It was concerning her, I believe. It concerned a witch of great power at first, I thought it to be another, however, I noticed Lucius Malfoy had entered the room of prophecies. It would appear his mind to be erased memory gone. Tom had fallen, I believed Bellatrix to be acting on his orders."

"And we never knew what the prophecy stated?"

"No."

"What happens if Bellatrix changed sides?"

"Bellatrix cannot be allowed to change sides."

"The Dark Lord will kill her or worse."

"Bellatrix is too much of a risk she must be treated as much."

"Your talking of sentencing her to her death," Snape comments frowning. "I am not a fan of the witch never the less, she has invaluable information and her skill to be used."

"Should Bellatrix approach the order, she should be treated as a threat and we should respond in kind."

"Kill her."

"Bellatrix, cannot change sides."

Dumbledore turns back to the grounds, his words final. Lost for words, Snape stares at the back of the old wizard they are sentencing a witch to her death. If she truly is running from Voldemort then they are missing a big opportunity.

"Why do the Death Eaters think Bellatrix has betrayed Tom?" Dumbledore asks reaching for his cup of tea.

"There was a disagreement between them not long ago. No one knows what was said, only Bellatrix seemed visibly shaken from a meeting. Ever since she has been acting weird. Not her usual self."

"You must find out what Tom spoke to her about, learning this could mean understanding Bellatrix state of mind and possibly the safe return of Miss Granger."

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~~

Groggy, she finds herself kneeling on the hard ground, water soaking into her trousers. Groaning, she rubs her neck the sky returning to its usual colour, she looks around. Bellatrix is on her feet, rolling up her sleeves revealing deep scars running along her wrists. The marks of chains from her imprisonment, the terrors of Azkaban revealed. Bellatrix seems almost proud of her scars, but the sight makes Hermione look away.

Pushing to her feet, she looks around the vast emptiness of their surroundings. Rolling fields of nothing, turning Hermione watches the witch move to the only building. A barn. Following behind Hermione pauses as Bellatrix orders her to stop moving.

Feet digging into the dirt, Hermione waits as Bellatrix nudges the large brown door open wand at the ready, she enters. Nervously, Hermione waits outside her fingers twitching. A bang makes her jump the smell of something burning makes her wonder if it's safe to enter. Tapping her foot, she becomes impatient, as time slowly trickles by. Annoyed, she follows nudging the door wider she allows the light to leak in.

Irritated to find Bellatrix sitting on hay, searching through her bag. Following the smell of smoke, she finds a curled-up rodent in the corner. Frowning, Hermione turns her questioning gaze back to Bellatrix.

"Don't trust rats," Bellatrix comments finally finding what she was searching for, she pulls a rolled-up sheet from her bag.

Standing, she motions for Hermione to move out the way, stepping aside Hermione waits for the great reveal. With a simple flick of her wrist, the sheet unravels in the air, spreading out just under five-foot-long it lands softly on the ground. A gasp escaping Hermione's lips at the sight of many different weapons on display. Daggers, several different wands and various dangerous potions at the ready.

"Wow." Hermione breathes staring at the weapons.

Ignoring, Hermione, Bellatrix bends down to examine one of her daggers, running her finger along the blade until it nicks her skin. Blood drips on to the ground, sucking her finger, Bellatrix slips the dagger into her boot. Reaching for her potions she picks another dagger before bathing it into the potion. After a few minutes, she pulls the dagger free, a green tinge running along the blade. Hermione winces at the smell of iron in the air, wondering what concoction Bellatrix has dipped her blade into.

"Dragon's blood," Bellatrix comments as though reading Hermione's thoughts once more. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" Hermione asks.

"Somethings cannot be killed with mortal weapons, they require… extra. Basilisk fangs are also good, but I don't fancy carrying a basilisk around with me. Do you?"

"I've had enough to do with basilisk to last a life time."

"Ah yes, Wormtail told us, you got petrified."

Hermione blushes at the thought of Death Eaters casually discussing her and the boy's antics. The thought unnerves her, disturbs her how much information Wormtail gained by pretending to be a pet.

"Can I have my wand back?" Hermione asks eyeing the spare wands.

A harsh laugh makes Hermione flinch at the sheet rolls back up and disappears into the bag. Removing any idea of stealing a wand just for back up. Shaking her head, Bellatrix rises to her feet, securing the rope to her side, she almost appears like a casual hiker if it weren't for the armoury full of weapons.

"Ah, you're a funny one muddy." Bellatrix comments, slipping her bag into her pocket and zipping it. "As if you've earned the right to hold a wand."

"The right?" Hermione demands as she rises to her feet.

"Aww, did you forget your little stunt early, you know after I saved your life. You think you deserve to have a wand after being so stupid?" Bellatrix sneers.

"I have every right," Hermione snaps. "That wand is mine, I earned it."

"Oh, muddy you have no idea what it means to earn something, magical that is." Bellatrix quips, checking her other pocket for a spare dagger.

"I am head of every class, considered the brightest witch of my age and you dare slander my requirements for a wander."

"Did I hurt wittle muddy's feelings?" Bellatrix hisses stepping closer. "News flash brat, I too was the Brightest witch of my age and the head of every class. I cast an unforgivable at the age of fourteen and held my own in a duel against the crazy old coot Dumbledore. I alone am the Dark Lords most loyal and I alone am the only one who has won a duel against him. You have no idea what it means to earn a wand."

"Not that loyal, since your running from him."

Slap. Her cheek aches from the backhand, it's nothing to the burning rage directed at her as the hand curls in her top. Dragging her closer to look Bellatrix in the eyes, she tries not to shrink wonders how much she can push the witch until she gets punished with magic.

"Watch your tongue filth," Is the unnatural growl. "I don't have a need for it. You don't know me filth nor do you know the reason we are here. I recommend you watch your tongue."

"You don't know me." Hermione spits back. "That wand belongs to my Nana. I want it back."

"You're a mudblood."

Flinching at the slur, Hermione stops her first resort mustering the urge not to punch the witch in the face. To not start a fight, she cannot finish.

"There's always magic in a muggleborns family. My wand."

"Not happening," Bellatrix sneers pushing Hermione away. "Not until I trust you, filth and that is not going to happen any time soon. Besides, you don't even know the risks yet. The trials have begun, there is no escape."

"What?" Hermione asks.

"No escape. Unable to flee…"

"No, I know what that means. What do mean we cannot escape, surely we can apparate."

"They told me you were smart. We've entered the trial of the Sleeping Moses, you cannot just decide you no longer want to be a part of it. We're here till the end or until we die."

"What happens if you just leave?"

"You cannot leave, the portal is shut. Once inside the outside world is no longer running at the same speed as us. Almost a different dimension, you have to complete each trial, if you get it wrong it will put back at the start. The trials will rotate, you are stuck here till the end. Sunk in has it?"

"What could be worth this?" Hermione demands. "What could you possibly need or want? You have money, magic and power. You are the Dark Lords most loyal, what could you possibly want?"

"Somethings cannot be brought or taken," Bellatrix comments to herself, moving away. "We need to move, good job I brought a spare compass…"

"Shush," Hermione says stepping forwards.

"What did you just say to me?" Bellatrix growls. "Did you just shush me… Filth you do not…"

"Quiet." Hermione snaps straining to listen. "Can you hear that?"

Stepping closer, Bellatrix's finger taps her wand, resisting the urge to curse, Hermione doesn't know. Both witches listen to the odd sound outside the barn, the strange sound of air moving. A loud flapping, as though a flock of birds. The ground shakes, Hermione clutches the nearest thing, which so happens to be Bellatrix's arm, who brushes the hand off.

"Earthquake?" Hermione asks as the ground rumbles.

"No," Bellatrix swallows eyes going wild she grabs Hermione pushing her to the door. "RUN!"

Hermione doesn't need to be told twice, seeing fear on Bellatrix's face is enough to make her run. She heads for the door as the roof of the barn is ripped away, showering them both in splinters of wood. An ungodly roar sends fear down her spine as the barn explodes with fire.

They burst through the door, feet pounding, risking a look backwards, Hermione sees the giant dragon stamping on the barn. Almost losing her footing as black glowing eyes turn to her, she nearly collapses in panic. It's Bellatrix running past her that brings out her competition she pushes herself to keep up.

Flinching as a ball of fire nearly misses them, Bellatrix running the opposite way from the dragon, towards the shelter of the forest. Except, Hermione's mind is running faster than her feet, trying to catch up. Ignores the gust of wind as the dragon takes to the sky above them. Focuses instead on the quarry to her left where the dragon is trying to divert them from.

She doesn't think, she grabs Bellatrix's arm, pulling the witch in the other direction narrowly avoiding being burnt alive.

"What are you doing?" Bellatrix shouts.

"It's leading us to the forest, we need to go where it doesn't want us to go."

Bellatrix catches on as she eyes the sharp drop in front of them. Out the corner of her eye, Hermione catches sight of the ball of fire heading towards her. Not thinking twice, she tackles the witch next to her, both of them rolling over as the ground erupts into an inferno next to them. Shoving Hermione off her, Bellatrix draws her wand firing rapid curses off towards the beast in the sky.

A roar of pain as the dragon hits the ground with a loud thud. They don't celebrate as Bellatrix pulls Hermione to her feet continuing their run towards the deep quarry in front of them.

"You hurt it?" Hermione shouted.

"No, I just pissed it off," Bellatrix replies.

Gasping, Hermione ducks as fire engulfs the shield protecting them the heat melting through the magical barrier. Another hit from the Dragon and they are dead. Her foot slips, her knee grazing along the rocky ground, ignoring the pain she pushes to her feet.

Only to slide to a stop, staring at the drop-in front of them, breathless she swallows her mouth dry. It's not a quarry just a sharp drop into a fast-flowing river. She's not even sure if they are going to make the fall, without breaking their necks or drowning.

Bellatrix is cursing turning to face the advancing dragon ready to die for her stupid cause.

"Well done muddy you got us killed." Bellatrix spits getting into the stance for the last fight of her life.

"This doesn't make sense."

"Should have fucking followed me." Bellatrix roars.

The ground shakes as the Dragon moves closer, furious it bears its yellow teeth revealing the build of fire. Yelping as the fire engulfs their shield Hermione glances to Bellatrix who is standing tall holding the shield. Sweat drips down the Death Eaters face, the flames leaching through the cracks in the shield. They're going to die by fire, she's going to die again.

"Get ready to meet your maker," Bellatrix growls hoarsely.

"Not yet." Hermione answers.

Grabbing the dark witch's arm, she ignores the angry glare, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do.

"You want to die holding my hand?" Bellatrix laughs cruelly.

"See what you don't know is I may be the brains of the trio," Hermione recounts. "it's not to say my plans are always sane. I'm going to need that trust now."

"WHAT?"

"Right NOW!" Hermione shouts pulling on the witch's arm.

She jumps towards the rushing water as Bellatrix's shield erupts. Dragging the dark witch behind she clutches the arm as they fall to their demise. Twice now she will die in water at least this time she won't be alone.

They both flinch as a fire ball chase after them. Taking a deep breath Hermione closes her eyes bracing for the water. They hit it with a smack the cold pushing the air out of them, they fall through the surface gasping they land on the solid ground beneath.

Landing with a smack, Hermione groans, her ribs aching at the punishment of the ground, she opens her eyes to tree bark. Coughing, she splutters clutching her stomach in pain from the sharp landing. She flinches as hands curl around her pulling her away.

Bellatrix yanking her to the side until she lands in the witch's lap a question forming on her lips it dies. The ground erupts next to them, as the fire ball that chased them hits where they just landed. Frowning, Hermione looks upwards to the river running freely above their heads, a river in the sky. The sight of the dragon screaming in annoyance slowly evaporating as the portal closes.

Speechless, Hermione cannot comprehend the magic these trials have, half amazed to be alive. Brushing wet hair from her face, Bellatrix stares up at the sky in mild wonder. Panting heavily, Hermione pulls her knees to her chest, rubbing her eyes.

"What? What just happened?" Hermione whispers unable to catch her breath.

"We're through to the next round."

A flask of water lands in her hands making her recoil, as Bellatrix climbs to her feet drying herself with her wand. A flush of warmth fills her as Bellatrix dries Hermione off too. Taking deep gulps of the water, Hermione allows the strangeness to sink in.

"So, any more questions?" Bellatrix demands as she brushes herself down "Or are you understanding what we're doing now?

"No, no more questions." Hermione rasps handing the flask back to Bellatrix.

"That one's yours," Bellatrix comments off hand. "If we come across any water we need to refill, preferably a stream."

"Wait," Hermione says as Bellatrix prepares for their next journey the witch with endless energy. "You beat You Know Who in a duel?"

Laughing, Bellatrix swigs her own water leading the way through the thick trees. She pulls out a machete to cut the vegetation back creating a path.

"Took you long enough."


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Harry,

It's been a few days now, I suppose by now you would know. I want you to know I'm okay, I think I'm okay. I cannot leave though, I need to finish this mission, although I feel it fruitless. I don't want to help her, I don't wish to aid the Death Eater. I don't know what she's hoping to achieve, I feel it is all for him though, who else would it be for?

I hate this, I hate every second I spend with her. I keep looking at her and seeing Sirius die, can still hear her cackling. I want to do something I never dreamt about before… I want to kill her. I want revenge. I don't like these thoughts, I feel my temper is out of control.

Is Ron going for the Gryffindor quidditch team? Wish him my luck, give him a boost. I know he can do it, I know you will support him. I wish I was there with you, I miss you all so much. Don't worry though, she doesn't want me dead, not yet anyway. Not yet.

I'll see you soon, with all my love.

Hermione.

Teeth rip into meat, leaving only the pinkie milk of the bone on display. Pitch black eyes stare into the fire, a hand prodding life into it, spilling the smoke into the air. A silence keeps the conversation to a minimum. A stream trickles nearby, a fresh source of water as they take comfort at the base of the mountain.

The cooked bird set aside scraps left for another time as a another sits picking at their food. Uncertainty in their movements, not used to living rough. They peel the meat slowly with less precision from the bone. Remorse for the bird now cooked, despite the demon tearing meat from the bone.

Setting their little metal tray down, the youngest rubs there back trying to get comfy, to ignore the bruise that has grown on their side. Wrapping a blanket around them they stare off towards the stars in the sky, memories of camping with her parents. Smiling to herself, she remembers the time her dad tried to set the tent up but managed to set up inside out. The giggling of her mother and herself filling the forest.

The thought makes her worry for her parents would the Order tell them what has happened to her, would they tell them she was kidnapped? Taken by a madwoman who is amazing at cooking. That even rice and meat tastes like a five star restaurant? She shakes her head, smiling at the letter she wrote, she folds it away with the other.

"What do your parents do?" The voice startles Hermione, jolting the tray in her lap she turns to the dark witch currently picking meat from the remaining bird. "Your muggle parents, what do they do?"

"Why?" Hermione asks folding her arms.

"I'm interested," Bellatrix replied licking a finger clean. "Besides it's this or staring at the sky. So, what do they do?"

"They're dentists."

"Ah, that's the one with the teeth, right? The Teeth doctors?"

"Yeah… How do you know that?" Hermione questions scooping rice on to her spoon.

"Know thy enemy." Bellatrix shrugs throwing a bone into the distance. "I always found the mental ones interesting."

"The psychologists?"

"Umm, I find them interesting."

"How do you know so much about the muggle world?"

"Oh yes I forgot, I'm the big bad Death Eater without remorse or conscious. We just kill for no reason."

"Well, you do."

"No filth, most Death Eaters go home to their families. This is a war, people die. Besides, I don't get to be the Dark Lords lieutenant by being a fucking good duellist. I do my research I need to know which muggles do what and why." Bellatrix replies sipping her water. "Tell you what, tit for tat. I ask and you get to ask in return. Fire away."

"Why?"

"I'm bored." Bellatrix answers. "My turn."

"Wait! No, that wasn't a question."

"Yes, it was." Bellatrix cackles throwing her plate aside. "Let's think, ah yes. Why were you with the Aurors the night I chose you?"

"Chose?" Hermione scoffs earning an eye roll from the Death Eater. "Tonks promised to take me to the Ministry. We got distracted she lost something on patrol said I'd give her a hand in return."

"What were you doing."

"Nope, my turn," Hermione smirks. "Why did you join the Death Eaters?"

"That it?" Bellatrix scoffs. "Because I believe in it."

"What were you doing at the Ministry?"

"Checking my birthday," Hermione answers distractedly. "Wait, that's it. You joined just because you believe in it?"

"Yes, oh did muddy think I had some sob story that my I was forced to follow. No. I believe in what my Lord stands for and I believe there should be change." Bellatrix grins. "Why did you need to check your birthday surely you're not that stupid?"

"I used a time turner in the third year, my birthday changed. I had to make sure I was allowed to use my wand during the school holidays."

"Damn McGonagall," Bellatrix hisses. "Old bat wouldn't let me use it. Oh well, so who have you fucked out of Potter and Weasley?"

Choking Hermione glares at the witch who merely smirks in return. Reaching for her flask Hermione takes a sip wondering how to respond to the question.

"Neither, they're my friends."

"How bland," Bellatrix mutters throwing a bone into the forest.

"What about you?" Hermione challenges. "Which Death Eaters you had sex with?"

"None, have you seen them… well, there was one but you wouldn't know of them."

"That's not true, your husband is a Death Eater. "

"As if I'd let him touch me, please," Bellatrix replies casually flicking dirt from underneath her nails. "Why do you hate me?"

"I feel like that's a bit obvious," Hermione states coldly.

"If it was obvious filth I wouldn't ask, but I can guess. I'm the big bad Death Eater and you belong to the light…"

"You killed Sirius." Hermione spits.

"Oh, he was your lover."

"No!" Hermione snaps. "He was my friend, he understood me and you killed him."

"Yes," Bellatrix answers with no remorse. "It's what happens."

"How can you not care he was your cousin?"

"And this is war. If I died, would you mourn my death?"

"That's different?"

"How so?" Bellatrix questions. "I'm not here to lecture you, never the less this is also the reason I hate Dumbledore for allowing children to play in war. You cannot comprehend that this whole thing has nothing to do with us. Me, you Sirius we are all insignificant. Just pawns in the game of chess between two kings. If you die here, your friends will mourn you and if I die my friends will mourn me. Yet we would just become names in a war. Sirius knew the risks of engaging us in battle, every time we fight, we understand we may not come home. Except Dumbledore fills your heads with the idea of grandeur. That you are the good fighting the bad, that we are the apostles of darkness. In truth, some of us are scared of spiders, some sleep with a candle and others are monsters. Some are neither good nor bad merely wish a change. What right do muggles have to rule? To destroy the world?"

"Your hoping to make me swap sides?" Hermione scoffs.

"No filth, you are no use to us." It shouldn't hurt but the comment does. Hermione is the smartest witch of her age she would be beneficial to any side. "You can only see the world as good and bad when in truth there is no such thing."

"So, you're not bad?"

"Me oh I never proclaimed that. I am evil, I enjoy torturing, I enjoy the screams and I enjoy a fucking good fight and a good fucking."

Flushing, Hermione looks away at the vulgar language tries to not allow her mind to engage with the pictures. She won't allow Bellatrix to try to convince her that the Death Eaters are just normal people, but still doubt nibbles away.

"Why not join the Order?" Hermione questions meeting Bellatrix gaze once more.

A laugh, unlike any Hermione, has heard from the witch fills their silence a deep throaty laugh that sounds human. It's deep and inviting as the witch falls on to her back breathless laughing with tears in her eyes. Hermione knows she should feel annoyed at being laughed at however she feels a smile crack her frown.

"You got me there muddy," Bellatrix comments rising to her feet. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

Reaching for another piece of wood, Bellatrix feeds the fire not elaborating on the answer. Disappointed Hermione wants to know why the witch wouldn't swap sides, if there is no good or bad then why not fight for the order.

"Why not?" Hermione questions making the witch pause wood still in hand.

"Oh, you were serious?" Bellatrix asks as the fire cracks with renewed life. "I thought it was obvious."

"No, not really."

"Think on it," Bellatrix comments pulling out her sleeping bag. "Time for sleep."

"What's your wish?" Hermione asks not wanting this moment to end.

"Ah, ah, not happening,"

"That's not fair."

"Such is life, also what's not fair you keep eyeing my dagger through this whole conversation. I was being pleasant muddy and all that time you wanted to avenge poor Sirius."

"What?" Hermione splutters ice running through her veins. "I wasn't."

"Please, you think I'd waste my time asking about your life for no reason? Good to know even in death my cousin wants to screw me over."

"You killed him," Hermione snaps rising to her feet. "In cold blood."

"And you sit there in the hopes to what? Steal my dagger to drive it through my heart?" Bellatrix cackles as she pulls out her dagger, grasping Hermione's hand she pulls it forward pressing the handle into Hermione's palm. "Go for it, filth, drive it home."

Guiding the blade, it touches the Death Eaters chest hovering above the beating heart. Swallowing, the handle feels heavy in her hand, the dagger strange to hold the thought to push it through the chest to kill the vile witch. It would, however, spell her end here it would mean her death stuck in these trials.

Clink. The dagger hits the rock, landing safely in the mud earning merely a smirk from Bellatrix.

"I'm not you," Hermione states angrily.

"No, I would have slit your throat without a second thought."

"Your no good to me dead," Hermione replies coldly, stepping away. "Don't think my logic is a weakness nor kindness."

She turns away from the witch, heart hammering as she reaches for her sleeping bag. Not daring to look at the witch tries to ignore the shake in her hands as she shimmies into her bag. Listens as Bellatrix collects her dagger stalking back to her bed. They fall into an uncomfortable silence, Hermione curled away clutching her letter to her chest.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

The stream slaps against the rock near her foot, as the flasks slosh with water. Pocketing her own, she bends over once more to fill the other, dipping it into the flowing water. She considers spitting in the water but decides against it.

The sun low in the early morning bringing the forest to life birds chirping. She hears Bellatrix stomping out the fire, the talk from last night still on repeat in her mind. How Hermione fell so easily into Bellatrix's manipulation. It concerns her how easy Bellatrix finds a way to get information out of her. Worries her.

Rising, she secures the lids, her gaze catching on something. Stepping carefully on the rocks, she crosses the stream, her foot squelching in the mud. She parts the bushes surprised to find a stone path that leads upwards and follows the winding stream down.

"Bellatrix!" She shouts, the name sounding foreign against her tongue. Unnatural.

It takes seconds for the witch to appear standing on the opposite side the stream, possibly more concerned about Hermione using Bellatrix's name than the actual discovery made. Pointing downwards, Hermione reveals the hidden path realisation dawning on the Death Eater.

"But which way?" Bellatrix questions studying the upwards stream. "There will be civilisation somewhere but did they build upwards for better defence? Prevention against flooding or down the base of the hill in the hopes for hunting?"

It amazes Hermione how much knowledge Bellatrix has; how easy the witch has taken to living rough. She had watched amazed last night as Bellatrix stalked their food without use of her wand. How she built a fire with her hands and lit it with flint. Makes Hermione want to ask the questions and almost wishes they were still playing tit for tat.

"What's your guess filth?" Bellatrix comments checking the compass. "You seem to have a knack for this?"

She considers the options, not too sure herself. Depends if they are a muggle or wizarding community if muggle she imagines they built at the top of the hill. If Wizarding would they build down at the base safe from flooding with the use of magic. She considers sharing this logic, her tongue tastes the words prepared to share to help make an educated guess.

"Poohsticks." She wasn't meant to say that.

Never the less, the look Bellatrix is giving her is priceless and almost worth making this whole situation worth it. However, her eyes are drawn to the little sticks one painted yellow and the other green which is casually floating past them. Heading down stream, the sound of running and laughter makes her step behind a tree. Bellatrix hidden by the shadows as children rush past pointing to the sticks and laughing. Racing each other down the path, the shouting from the top of the hill from a woman possibly a mother warning them to be careful.

"Poohsticks?" Bellatrix asks stepping from the shadows.

"It's a game where you race two sticks, usually you stand on one side of the bridge drop your sticks and rush to the other side. Whoever sticks passes by first wins. Used to play it with my dad on holiday in Laugharne, Wales." Hermione smiles at the memory. "So, I guess upwards?"

"Up." Bellatrix agrees as she steps through the water, a charm protecting her clothes from getting wet.

They journey in silence up the steep hill, Hermione trailing behind the witch. She admires the view, watching the birds circle in the air. The loud clang pulls her back to the present as a bucket rolls past her feet, a woman scurrying from the stream rushing back towards the village in the distance.

The action makes Bellatrix pause, watching the woman rush into the distance. The stone path becoming darker as the trees bend and shade the small village in darkness banning the sun from touching. A shiver passes through Hermione who glances backwards the fear itching at the base of her neck. Her mind whispering to turn back, to turn away from the village in the shadows.

"Stay alert." Bellatrix orders.

They pass a man attending to his van, who watches them warily. The hood of his engine open his sleeves rolled up and the door to his van open. Revealing delicious fruit, vegetables and bread on display.

"Your brave," He comments on their passing, barely earning a glance from Bellatrix.

"Why?" Hermione asks ignoring the annoyed huff from the Death Eater.

"Village is cursed, I wouldn't go that way."

"How so?" Hermione asks stopping, ignoring the stomp from Bellatrix.

"Nothing grows there, no wildlife flourishes, I'm the only idiot who delivers their food. Every time I do my car packs in. Every time I have to push it to the edge jump start it. Turn back girls there's nothing there, except doom and gloom."

"Oh good," Bellatrix perks up her hand digging into Hermione's bicep. "Just my thing, come along."

"Thanks," Hermione says as Bellatrix drags her away shaking the hand off.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya."

"What did I just say?" Bellatrix demands angrily.

"The more information the better." Hermione answers.

Shaking her head, Bellatrix stalks towards the village, both witches ignoring the unnatural chill in the end. Doors slam shut, windows swinging closed, shops closed and boarded up. Still, Hermione can feel the eyes that follow them, can hear the whispers behind the doors.

Sky dark, hidden behind dying trees, rubbing her hands together, Hermione stares around the small village. A newspaper stuck in the mud, she plucks it free. Frowning at the date, only ten days old, she studies the houses. It all seems new, the whole situation feels new, fear in the air.

"This isn't the trial is it?" Hermione asks allowed.

"No," Bellatrix comments, analysing the situation. "Something else is here. I think we found where we need to go."

Looking over the Death Eaters shoulder she notices a boarded up bookshop with a big red cross painted on the door. The windows boarded up from the outside swallowing, Hermione's hand twitches for her wand.

"My wand." She says.

"Nope."

"Bellatrix."

"Filth," Bellatrix hisses. "Shut up."

She bites her tongue, a new anger she hasn't seen on the Death Eater visible, she doesn't feel like pushing the witch any further. Her silence is enough for Bellatrix who stalks towards the door wand drawn. She casts a charm around them preventing muggle eyes from viewing magic.

It dawns on Hermione as Bellatrix points her wand at the door, the witch is nervous. Bellatrix is scared about what they could face, knows something about the situation. It unnerves Hermione who thought Bellatrix was incapable of any emotion.

Pop. The door blows inwards, dust released making both witches cough in response. Drawing her scarf up, Hermione prevents herself from inhaling too much. With a flick of her wand the dust vanishes a light cast into the darkness, a boot crosses the threshold.

The door rattles to a close behind Hermione, a candle lit she stares around the old book shop. In awe, she traces her hand along the spines of dusty books, her every dream coming true. A cough from Bellatrix reminds her that they are here for something other than books.

"Stay close," Bellatrix warns.

They trail through the rows of books alert, they know they are not alone. Pausing to scan through books thrown from shelves, looking for a clue. The floor boards creak under their feet, the till sits empty, a spider's web covering the keys. Pausing at the curtain that separates the personal quarters from the front of the shop, Hermione waits for Bellatrix. The witch flicking through books, throwing one carelessly to the floor. Stepping close, Bellatrix slips through the curtain wand raised she enters the back room.

A stench hits Hermione, it reaches her even through her scarf, she winces jumping as she walks into a web. A large spider drops to the floor near her foot scurrying into the darkness. Can feel Bellatrix smirking at her, tries to ignore the taunt from the Dark Witch.

Stepping across the room, Hermione finds a tiny kitchen, a small sink and a run-down oven. Two of the hobs rusted away, a plate left in a sink, a draw hanging from the cupboard. A beetle scurries across the surface slipping through a break in the window.

"Found the owner." Bellatrix voice startles her.

Turning Hermione jumps, finding the witch leaning against the fridge behind her studying the picture. How long was the witch standing there for? Wand twirling in her hand, Bellatrix indicates Hermione to follow.

The sight is grisly, she gasps turning she vomits the contents of their breakfast up on to the floor. A snort from Bellatrix at her actions. Tears sting her eyes as she pukes, pulling back she swigs at her flask to remove the taste of smell. Almost great full as the witch flicks her wand to remove her sick but knows this is purely for the Death Eaters benefit. Bellatrix turning her nose up at the actions.

Preparing herself, Hermione turns back to the shop keeper, or what's left of him. Tries not to puke again as a rat wiggles from between town ribs to scatter into the darkness. The remains of the man, in his chair, glasses hanging on a string. Dust settled on the frame, head leaning to the side death has claimed. The wildlife has done the rest, the skin plucked from flesh, hand resting on an open book. The chair sitting next to the fire, no wonder the locals feared this house.

"Well found our ghost," Bellatrix comments, pulling the book from beneath the skeleton hand. "Death by boredom."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione settles her stomach leaning forward she studies the man closer. Jumping as Bellatrix places a hand on her shoulder the witch cackling with amusement as she chucks the book aside.

"Careful muddy, he might eat you. He does look a bit skinny."

"Don't you have respect?" Hermione demands.

"For muggles no," Bellatrix cackles. "What you looking for a hickey, I don't think that's what the rat was doing."

"His, not a muggle," Hermione responds, crouching, she spots the wand loose behind the skeleton of the wizard. "He has a wand."

"Touch it, I curse you." Bellatrix threatens.

"I… I don't think," Hermione stammers, trying to check the neck of the wizard, she carefully moves the candle closer.

"Don't think what?" Bellatrix asks casually.

"It doesn't look a natural death." Hermione comments. "I'm no doctor but his neck and shoulder blades, there seems to be damage to them. Like something has sliced through it, plus there's a bit a blood. Could be from the rats, but humans don't generally bleed after dying. The heart is no longer pumping, unless he was comatose? Maybe a stroke rats got hungry… Why are you staring like that?"

Hermione asks turning to the witch behind her lifting her candle higher. It's with a cold sensation she realises Bellatrix isn't looking at her but more over her shoulder, towards the corner of the roof. Her mind tells her not to look, Bellatrix is indicating for her to walk forward, to move closer.

She looks. A scream barely leaves her mouth as she ducks the swipe, feels the tug to her scalp as a blade slices through her hair. An unnatural squeal leaving the creature, she feels the air leave her lungs she is thrown backwards. Her back hits a wooden table it splinters beneath her as she crashes to the ground in a slump. Clutching her side, she flinches as a curse strikes over her head, Bellatrix hitting the creature full on. A roar makes her flinch, she scurries across the floor sliding into hiding beneath another table. A spell crashes through the wall dust spilling into the air. A rush of air, Hermione spots the creature a spell leaving it's lips it clashes with Bellatrix's. The house too small for such a fight. The creature moving at unnatural speed. Crunch, Bellatrix lands on the ground in front of her, the creature crawling along the roof.

Jumping to her feet, Bellatrix wipes the blood from her face narrowly missing the blade that streaks towards her, she reacts. Digging her tainted dagger into the claw like hand a squeal leaving the creature as it darts back into the shadows. Where's her wand, she searches the floor, digging into her coat searching for her back up, she turns around.

Her curved wand pointed straight at her, the cold eyes of the mudblood staring her down. The filthy witch using Bellatrix's wand against her, to take her down. Should never have trusted the filthy little…

A bright light erupts from the wand she ducks expecting the curse, hand reaching for her dagger. She will cut the filthy mudblood heart from her chest. The room engulfs with light, blinding Bellatrix, who covers her eyes.

A terrifying screech leaves the mouth of the creature, thrashing in the room, Hermione watches it curl in on itself. It's scaly bright white skin available, it screams in pain as Hermione holds the spell. The wand fights her every move. Smash. The window breaks apart as the creature escapes forcing through the boarded up windows and vanishing into the forest behind the house.

Releasing her breath, Hermione relights the candles in the room, not allowing any shadows, fearful the creature will return. She lowers the wand, Bellatrix rising to her feet rubbing her eyes. Lifting the sunglasses, she stole, Hermione places them on top of her head.

Bellatrix snatches her wand back, Hermione flinches as the wand presses against her ribs. Expects retribution from the witch for touching the wand.

"Ask next time." Bellatrix murmurs.

Wincing as a hex rushes through her system, Hermione rolls her eyes as Bellatrix steps away the room destroyed. The walls marked with magic, tables destroyed a curtains puffs smoke singing from a spell.

"What was that?" Hermione asks rubbing her side.

"That was… something I never wish to see again." Bellatrix comments. "We're here for something find it."

They work quietly, searching for anything and jumping at the smallest sound. Worried the creature will come back and finish the job. Bellatrix sporting a split lip and dishevelled state of dress, Hermione limping. Her mind running through all the creatures she knows off and nothing rings a bell. Bellatrix, however, seems to know once they pass through this, she will ask the witch what that thing was.

"Ah ha," Bellatrix pronounces, from the floor, lying on her belly looking under a cat bed.

With a bit persuasion, she lifts the floorboard, revealing a notebook, wand and map. Passing the note book to Hermione, Bellatrix pockets the wand and reveals the clue.

"There's a lever." Both witches announce at the same time.

Scurrying around together, they search for the lever, Hermione pausing by the corpse, she pulls the wand free. Smirking at finding it to be a fake ignoring the short cough form Bellatrix. She snaps the wand earning a surprised look from the witch as she reveals a hidden key. A hexagon shaped key which Bellatrix plucks from her hands.

Confused, Hermione watches as Bellatrix lights the fire, the action blowing out all the candles. Fearful she watches as the witch reaches through the flames that never touch. Revealing the key behind the fire, she places the hexagon into the slot. She turns it clockwise, releasing the lever. The Building shakes as the back of the fire vanishes revealing a different location.

"Portal" Bellatrix comments satisfied. "After you."

Hesitating, Hermione takes one last look around before stepping through the portal. The sensation of sickness taking over she lands on her feet. Staring at the busy street in front, a wizarding town. Bellatrix appears behind her wand pocketed they have made it through to the next level.

Releasing a sigh, Hermione steps away from the witch stretching her arms she sucks the clean air in greedily.

"What about those villagers?" Hermione asks holding the note book.

"They'll live."

Bellatrix shrugs the response off, cracking her neck. Guilt tugs at Hermione's heart, she feels bad for leaving the creature with the villagers however she finds herself distracted. Plucking a newspaper up from the kiosk, she swallows at the sigh.

"Umm, Bellatrix," Hermione whispers.

Frowning, Bellatrix snatches the newspaper from Hermione's hand, before glancing around. A curse leaving the witches lips, Hermione's face plastered across the front page. Kidnapped. It brings the truth home, that she is essentially kidnapped, held against her own will.

"Shit," Hermione breathes watching horrified over Bellatrix's shoulder.

"Fuck." Bellatrix hisses drawing her wand.

It's too late they watch the creature slip through the closing portal arriving behind them. It spares them one look, slick yellow eyes that regard them before it scurries away into the town. Hermione goes to follow, but a hand prevents her from doing so.

"We have to stop it." Hermione comments.

"No, don't you get it. It's like us. It's here for the Sleeping mosses, if we follow, we lose our place and will have to start again. Each contestant has their own challenges to face. I'm sure we'll bump into it again."

What could a creature like that want? What could it want with the Sleeping mosses? A question for another day they have more pressing matters like her face plastered all over the papers. It's movement in the distance that gains her attention, her heart soaring as ice runs through her veins. A strange feeling takes hold as gently taps Bellatrix's arm.

Growing tense, Bellatrix drops the newspaper turning to face the advancing Aurors, seven of them. They shuffle around stopping their escape.

"Arrêt." One orders as another indicator for Hermione to move towards them.

A slender arm blocks her path, Bellatrix preventing her 'rescue'. Not that she could leave with them, not without risking being trapped in this trial for the rest of her life.

"You are going to need more," Bellatrix warns.


	5. A New Identity

The room lays in ruins, the bed frame ripped the carpet torn and the cupboard blown apart. The wind rips through the smashed windows, the curtains burnt and torn. The fireplace remains destroyed, dust covering the ground, tiles broken the once magnificent fire demolished.

A Slytherin symbol flaps in the breeze torn apart by the magic that lingers in the air. Anger remains in the smashed glass in the smouldering fire that burns in the corner. Hatred marks the walls in burns, the pictures of a family ripped apart. Clothes strewn across the floor, books ripped apart. Violence speaks volumes as the wand that struck with such vehemence still taps against a leg.

Teeth bite at crusted nails, he pulls the excess nail away chewing on it as he stares at the picture in his lap. A knife struck through the heart of the woman, black eyes taunt from the pictures. Cold grey ones return the stare, the knife twisting in the picture.

The nail crunches in his mouth as he glares at the grinning woman in his lap. His wand sparks annihilating the remaining bed it explodes sending shards of wood through the air.

"My dear Belle." He whispers a single finger tracing the pale cheek of the photo. "Did you never learn from the first one?"

The picture set alight, burning in his hands, he relishes in the pain, as fire scorches his skin. Ripping into his flesh he smiles at the pain. The smell of burning flesh taking him back to his younger years before Azkaban ruined his fun. He swallows his nail, driving his knife into the soft furniture.

"I won't go easy on you this time my sweet," He promises to the ashes. "Who is this little mudblood? Another lover? Did you not learn, you Blacks always did enjoy filthy things? Well, this time I will make you watch. I will skewer the little mudbloods cunt and then I will rip you apart. I won't kill you though my love, no my dear. Our Lord still has a need for you, but I promise you. This time you will never forget."

Rising to his feet he regards his wife's room the books he tore apart. Trying to find information, to understand where she went where Bellatrix has decided to go. He wanted to ask Narcissa but the slut always was smart knew exactly when to vacate the premises. Away with her dear Draco, another part of the country. His hands itch he wants the stupid bitch, wants to wipe the smug look from her face.

Malfoys always did think they knew best. He wonders what would hurt her the most if he got his hands on Draco and made her watch or Lucius. Would the infamous ice queen drop her mask, he does have a particular skill to make others cry?

The Dark Lord was not merciful though, the betrayal of his best. A big boy, his happy to admit Bellatrix is the best Death Eater. He understands the Dark Lords anger he was angry too. When Bellatrix didn't heel, didn't come crawling to their master. It made him angry because Bellatrix always came home like a dog to its master. He never had to worry about her loyalty, because the Dark lord had her under his thumb.

Now though, now he doesn't understand Bellatrix, she has never disappointed the Dark Lord. Never went against his orders, except for that one time. Along time ago but she learnt her lesson. Like all dogs, they just need reminding who their master is, it's just a matter of beating it into them.

His boot catches on something, something thrown from one of the draws. Bending down, he picks the tattered picture hidden in a destroyed book from the bottom of a draw. Three sisters all so young, Bellatrix arm resting over both their shoulders swearing at the camera with a big grin. Narcissa smiling leaning into her sisters embrace. His eyes are drawn to the other sister, Andromeda almost a spitting image to that of Bellatrix. Her gaze sharper, no smile on her face rolling her eyes in despair forcing the arm from her shoulder.

His fingers trace the middle sisters face, fondly. He misses Andy, misses their antics their juvenile crimes terrorising the locals. Always such a good house wife, always obedient except when she wasn't. When she took the mudblood and ran away. Can still remember Bellatrix's tantrum, can remember the curse she hit him with for siding with the sister. Still has the scar, can still remember the unhinged magic that tore through the Black manor.

The way the Dark Lord's eyes lit up at the magic, remembers their duel. Her father and the Dark Lord trying to stop Bellatrix from following her sister. Trying to stop her from destroying the Black house. Her father fell first hit with a reducto that sent him through the conservatory roof. The shock on everyone's face when she defeated the Dark Lord sent him tumbling from the rafters. It was Narcissa that calmed her that stepped in front of that curved fucking wand. That pressed a hand to the beating heart controlling the mangy beast and calming her down.

He remembers that day, the day he wanted Bellatrix as his wife, to control the mangy beast. To strip her bare and destroy any resistance. He wanted her to submit to him, they were good friends. They respected one another, he could take. He could force her to do what a wife would do. If only he knew, knew where her tastes lie, the slut she brought to bed. To disgrace herself, to lie with another woman, her anger at being told no. Their duel. Their fights, he vowed he force her to be the best wife she could be.

Such resistance, he craves that wand. Wants the wand to bury deep in her cunt and curse her to the core. For all the humiliation she has put him through. To hear her scream just once, all these years and he has never bested her. He tried for Narcissa, but the witch always knew when to vanish. Then he managed to get his hands on the one thing she desired most. A reminder to never disobey him. He engraved it in her mind. A promise to everything she holds dear, he will always be there.

"Rod," The door forces open, his brother appears pausing in the doorway surveying the damage. "We've found her."

Rising to his feet, he drops the picture to the ground, turning to his brother. Pushing his greasy hair backwards, he regards his younger brother, they are so very similar. Rabastian admires his brother's handy work, the remaining parts of the bedroom. Where Rodulphus settled, Rabastian still enjoys being a lady's man he always enjoyed taking another mans wife.

"Are you sure?" Rod replies twisting his foot against the picture. His voice gravelly he pulls out his mark.

"They were spotted in France,"

"How sure?"

"One witch defeated seven aurors, please. Rod, it's her, summon him."

They do summon him in the library away from the destruction of Bellatrix's room. It would not do for the Dark lord to know the Death Eaters were fracturing. They need to stay strong to show unity in the face of betrayal. Bellatrix has left doubt amongst the ranks if she has betrayed the Dark Lord then what hope was there for any one else.

The Dark Lord appears in the flurry of movement, surprised to find the brothers together, to find them both sober. He spares barely a syllable for either, resting next to the fire he waits for the reason. Waits to hear the news after all the Dark Lord has gone quiet since Bellatrix' betrayal. Rod has noticed the meetings are few, the orders barked and there is little talk. The cards held close to the Dark Lords chest. Even Severus is kept in the dark, no one privy to the Dark Lords thoughts or plans. If Rod thought the wizard could feel anything, he would assume the Dark Lord was hurt by the betrayal.

"She's appeared," Rabastian starts eagerly to begin the hunt. "In France my lord, Paris."

"How sure."

"One witch defeated seven aurors, had a young woman with her."

"So, it must be." The Dark Lord summarises. "Why Paris?"

Neither men answer because the Dark Lord does not like time wasters. Therefore, they remain quiet, both eager to follow the trail before it goes cold. To find Bellatrix before she disappears once more.

"Find Antonin and Greyback, bring her back." The Dark Lord orders pushing from the fire place. "I wish both to be alive."

"Both my Lord?" Rod questions, why must the mudblood live?

"The mudblood has valuable information on Potter, it would be prudent to keep her as a bargaining chip. Perhaps even bait, Potter always rash for those he loves."

"Alive?"

"With sanity," The Dark Lord threatens violence in silence motion. "Have fun if you must, but I want the both alive and talking. No repeats, take Greyback, keep him leashed. It would do none of us any good for Bellatrix to become a filthy creature."

"She's temperamental as it is." Rabastian jokes earning a smirk from Rod.

The curse hits Rabastian sending him to the ground, a subtle reminder that Bellatrix is still one of them. Until the Dark Lord has answers he will give Bellatrix the benefit of the doubt. Until then, their words are to be careful.

He vanishes in a puff of smoke leaving one begging for violence and the other revenge. First, they must recruit a wolf, after all, you need a dog to track a dog.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

She sits staring at the front page of the newspaper, wind whipping her hair around her face. Discomfort niggles at her neck, she feels almost star struck. Almost. Bellatrix leans casually against the metal trusting the railing entirely despite the sharp drop downwards. Looking up, Hermione studies the city beneath them the sky darkening and the lights blinking into existence.

She always wanted to visit the Eiffel Tower, she just never imagined it would be with Bellatrix Lestrange. Never imagined being on the front page of the paper kidnapped. Never imagined being awe stuck by the witch casually digging into chips and admiring the view.

Internally she fights with herself, hating herself for admiring the witch for the way she defeated the Aurors as if they were a pest. As though they were nothing, the madness that danced in black eyes. Hermione almost envies the witches skill. She watched transfixed as Bellatrix duelled with such ease it took her breath away.

She has never seen a duel like that before even at the Department of Ministry she had not seen Bellatrix at her best. The witch malnourished not back at her full strength. Yet here she was holding such power it took everything in Hermione not to clap at the end.

"Chip?" Bellatrix asks offering a chip to Hermione.

Shaking her head, Hermione resumes eating her pizza Bellatrix shrugs turning back to her food. A comfortable silence settles even as a seagull inches closer along the railing towards Bellatrix. Beady eyes eying the chips, Bellatrix scowling at the little creature.

"Your quiet." Bellatrix summarises turning back to Hermione. "Why?"

"That was incredible." Hermione hurries out, dropping her pizza in excitement startling the dark witch. "I have never seen a duel like that before. It's almost as though you could see all their moves before they made them. Your footwork, your wand Manship how? Can you teach me? Show me how you did that flourish..."

"Whoa, whoa there buttercup. Back up. I'm not your professor." Bellatrix replies unnerved by Hermione's response and batting away the approaching seagull. "I'm sure your meant to say something like, 'what you did back there was evil. Impressive but evil, you shouldn't have hurt those people you are so deliciously evil it makes me…"

"I don't talk like that," Hermione interrupts blushing.

"No, your lot more whingy. 'You can't do that Bellatrix. Why must you be a bitch all your life? Waa, waa, waah.'"

"Shut up, I don't sound like that," Hermione mutters crossing her arms.

"Sure, you don't." Bellatrix comments rolling her eyes jumping as a beak steals a chip. "I swear Steven if you take another chip, I'm going to shove one where the sun doesn't shine."

"You named the seagull?"

"No, he told me, you don't speak seagull?"

"You do?" Hermione asks confused, is that even a thing or has the witch really lost it?

"What's that Steven, ah I agree."

"Agree?"

"Yeah, he said if we head east, we can find somewhere to get a disguise and sort your hair out honestly muddy it's awful."

Blinking, Hermione checks her reflection in the window startled to find half her hair cut off during the fight. Well, at least she's halfway to a disguise. Steven squawks, nodding Bellatrix mutters something and feeds him a chip.

"Thank you, Steven," Bellatrix nods giving the seagull the rest of her chips as she dusts her hands from grease. "Also said we should encounter the next portal up along the river, have to get moving our fight will reach back home."

"He told you that?" Hermione asks in disbelief.

"He did… sorry, what was that? Ah yes, I agree."

"What did he say?"

"He said waa, waa waah." Bellatrix cackles.

"You're a bitch." Hermione groans, she cannot believe she fell for the witch's joke.

"Your face," Bellatrix cackles slapping the railing. "Should have seen your face ah god it was priceless."

Flushing, Hermione rubs her eyes, she is far too tired for this kind of banter. Still her lip curls at the Dark witch's humour, happy to hear the deep laugh once more. Unable to help the small chuckle that escapes her lips as Bellatrix continues to laugh.

Wiping her eyes, Bellatrix approaches, kicking the newspaper from view, she offers her hand for Hermione to take. Shaking her head, Hermione rises to her feet taking one last look at the view. Finally, she places her arm in Bellatrix's grip.

"Waah," Bellatrix whispers making Hermione snort.

They vanish in a blur appearing on solid ground next to a busy street. Chuckling, Bellatrix indicates for Hermione to follow leading along the street casting a charm around them both. They pause at a solid wall a few taps and it dissolves Bellatrix allows Hermione to enter first. They step through into a dark alley and realisation hits Hermione a bit too late. Bellatrix offered her arm for appiration didn't just grab Hermione. The witch waited for Hermione and Hermione didn't fight. Were they making some sort of process?

"Come on cry baby, before you scare someone with that haircut." Bellatrix taunts from the gloom of the street.

Then again.

It's a small little beat up shop they arrive at, both witches slipping inside, Bellatrix turning the sign to closed, flicking the lock. Settled amongst cushions Hermione listens to Bellatrix as she continues the heated debate with the owner. Stirring her tea, Hermione tries not to ease drop to not listen to the conversation.

The moment the walked through the door, the owner and Bellatrix had started a fight. Yelling at each other in French, leaving Hermione bewildered. An elf offering Hermione a cup of tea and biscuits she sits silently.

The aging woman approaches Hermione clicking her fingers she points to the chair opposite the mirror. Hesitantly, Hermione moves seats flinching as the owner cranks the chair lifting it higher. Candles flicker to life as the witch behinds her summons a sheet using it to cover Hermione. A hand running through Hermione's hair. Pulling a face at the torn hair, a swift shake of the head.

"Disgraceful," The witch mumbles. "Such lovely hair, why? Why do this?"

"She might be a mudblood," Bellatrix comments flicking through a wardrobe. "She still has some propriety. She didn't cut it herself."

"I can tell, do I seem blind to? You old goat. Be away with your horrid mouth and unpleasant presence let me work my magic. Heaven knows this poor chit needs it."

Groaning, Bellatrix disappears into the back of the shop dragging clothes with her. Hermione doesn't miss the eye disapproving eye that traces Hermione's own wardrobe. A pin pulled from messy hair as the witch prepares to work.

"I shall apologise for the rude behaviour of my cousin. She was raised better, too much time with feral creatures."

"Cousin?"

"Ah yes, can you not see the resemblance?" The witch grins winking at Hermione. To Hermione, the witch appears nothing like Bellatrix and almost appears twice her age. "Well in all honesty, how could you? I mean look at me, Aphrodite herself would be jealous. Where as Bellatrix, well even the trolls didn't want her. Now your hair my fear girl. I think straight? Yes?"

"Yes." Hermione breathes. "I've tried but it never works."

"But you are not me, let me work."

Staring, her fingers trace her hair, the hair that was once so very out of controlled. Now straight, Mademoiselle Nour had worked her magic cutting Hermione's hair level. It now rests at the bottom of her neck. She appears completely different, grown up almost. The clothes changed, removed the black garments Bellatrix stole. Replaced by ripped jeans and cream jacket she feels almost human. Almost.

Never the less, it's Bellatrix transformation that leaves her speechless, the witches' hair under control and tied into a ponytail. Wearing black trousers and a black waist coat, it almost surreal. The witch both manly and yet so very feminine, the blouse doing nothing to hide the breasts. A long black coat thrown on the back of the chair, both witches relaxing before they take leave.

Mademoiselle Nour snores in the background, lounging on her love seat, hand threw over her face. The stylist so very different from Bellatrix and yet so very similar. Both witches flamboyant, different and both excellent at their crafts.

Hermione barely recognises either of them, they could easily blend in with a crowd. The muggle appeal oddly suiting Bellatrix and it's this stage Hermione realises she has been ogling the witch. Turning away she shoves a custard cream into her mouth trying to distract her mind.

"We'll move soon." Bellatrix comments, sprawled on the seat opposite Hermione, playing with a cane. "During nightfall, it's too dangerous to stay the night."

"Shouldn't we go now?" Hermione asks brushing crumbs from her jumper.

"No," Bellatrix answers twirling the cane. "Aurors will be looking, best to hide in the crowds at night."

"What's worth all this?" Hermione asks watching the cane pause mid spin. "Please, what is worth all this pain? You remain loyal, but yet here we are? I need to know."

"Why?" Bellatrix asks resuming her playing with the cane.

"Because I need to know if I'm a…" She trails off, hours of doubt festering.

"A what?"

"A sacrifice."

"Oh please," Bellatrix scoffs. "Filth, if I was going to sacrifice someone don't you think it's be someone with noble blood? I would have brought my husband and not wasted time on the likes of you."

"Then why?"

"Because you are you and I am me."

"That doesn't make sense," Hermione complains. "Just tell me, what are you wishing for? What could make you sacrifice everything."

"I made a mistake when I was younger," Bellatrix replies. "I aim to mend it."

"Yes, you said, what mistake."

"I am unable to have children," Bellatrix answers pressing the cane against the floor. "When I was younger, I made an error. A mistake. I wish to fix it."

"Your wish is to have… children?" Hermione whispers in disbelief.

"Yes, when the Dark Lord wins, I wish to have my own family."

"Bullshit." Hermione spits earning Bellatrix's full attention. "I'm sorry I call bullshit. Your doing all this to have kids someday? You? In what world do you think I'd believe that."

"Careful Muddy," Bellatrix threatens sitting upright. "Your very close to a slap."

"Ha? I'm sick of your mind games." Hermione growls pushing to her feet. "Sick of you treating me like a fool. I don't believe you for a second, you're not capable of loving let alone a child."

The cold metal of the cane presses against her throat, forcing her backwards until she collapses into the chair. She gasps for breath, anger and something Hermione has never seen before glares down at her. Hurt. Bellatrix appears hurt by Hermione's words.

"You think I would willingly show this kind of vulnerability to you, to filth like you?" Bellatrix hisses angrily. "You may think me a monster muddy, but even monsters have dreams."

"I don't believe you." Hermione gasps, clutching the cane.

"Believe it, what else could I possibly wish for? The only thing I do not have. So, listen close to me you little brat, I hope like every other stupid fuck out there. I hope to have a family, to have a child of my own. I wish to mend a mistake I made."

"You're not fucking with me?" Hermione whispers.

"No, filth. I am not. I can show you the scar if your so inclined."

Stepping back, Bellatrix removes the cane, studying Hermione for a second before returning to her own chair. Rubbing her throat, Hermione regards the witch could it be true? Could Bellatrix simply wish to have a child? Even magic has its limits but ancient magic it might just do it.

"I'm sorry," Hermione says breaking the tension earning a strange look from Bellatrix. "I… I'm sorry for being judgemental."

"No harm is done Muddy, I only have myself to blame for the reputation," Bellatrix replies indifferently.

"No, I… I hate that." Hermione stutters forcing her brain to function. "I should know better; all my life people have done the same. I vowed never to be like them."

"Filth, I kidnapped you, I'm a famous murderer you don't need to apologise."

"I do." Hermione nods firmly. "I am sorry,"

The firmness of her voice startles Bellatrix, who regards Hermione suspiciously. An uneasy trust lingering between them. Any minute Hermione expects the witch to start laughing at her, to claim it all to be a big joke. She doesn't instead Bellatrix appears more disturbed by the apology than the anything else.

"If your telling me the truth," Hermione states eyeing Bellatrix closely. "Then I will help you."

"You don't have a choice." Bellatrix reminds.

"I have every choice," Hermione replies, she can easily sabotage this.

"What would your friends think to you helping the big bad Death Eater?"

Shrugging, Hermione glances to the budgies in the corner of the room. What would they think? They probably wouldn't believe Hermione for a start. Wouldn't believe Bellatrix, but what possible reason would Bellatrix have to share such an intimate secret. Sure, in some ways it could be to make Hermione feel sorry for her, make her want to help Bellatrix. But the dark witch already had Hermione's help, she doesn't need anything else.

"If your lying," Hermione whispers meeting the gaze once more. "And I swear, neither of us will be leaving this mission. Do you understand? No more games."

"I'm not lying filth," Bellatrix sneers not enjoying the threat. "I'd swear it on my lord's life."

Swallowing, Hermione pulls away from the staring match. It must mean something for Bellatrix to not only sacrifice her Lords faith but to swear on his life? It seals the deal, Bellatrix is telling the truth, maybe not everything. But the wish is real.

The squawking of bird's startle Hermione, Mademoiselle Nour jumps to her feet whispering to herself. As all the birds in the room start to go crazy. Rising to her feet, Hermione glances to Bellatrix who also appears just as confused.

"Leave." Nour orders. "My dear Bella, they have come for you. They are here. Death Eaters."


	6. Sun Rise

Dear Harry,

I wish you could have seen it with your own eyes, it had to be seen to be believed. The way she duelled, it was unbelievable, honestly Harry it was amazing. I truly thought she had lost her mind it's almost as if the magic takes over.

Things are getting difficult, it's not her, it's everyone else. There was this creature, I've never seen anything like it before, it attacked us. I saved her. I saved Bellatrix I could have left her to die, however, I didn't. I wish I knew why. Aurors attacked, they tried to save me, but it's not possible. I cannot leave, it's not because I don't want to, I want to come home. Something else keeps us here, we've entered something. I cannot even write about it, there's ancient magic so powerful.

She told me something, Bellatrix did… I don't know what it means, it changes everything. I hope she's not messing with me again, she does enjoy it. I don't know though she seemed different vulnerable? Can Bellatrix be vulnerable?

I miss you.

Hermione

Heart thumping, Hermione watches as Bellatrix slides into her long black coat, talking in French to Nour. The Death Eaters are coming, they are coming to bring them both back to the Dark Lord. To face Voldemort and if Bellatrix appears nervous then Hermione is terrified.

"Nour will take you to where we need to go," Bellatrix says turning to Hermione. "Don't stop, don't slow down and do not come after me."

"We're splitting up, isn't that against rule one or something?" Hermione protests.

"My husband is here filth, which means so is my brother in law. You will slow me down. I will meet you at the end. Nour don't let her follow."

"Of course, I shall keep her safe," Nour promises as she rests a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Bellatrix. If we split if we go separately through the trial, you know what will happen."

"I'm aware."

"You'll be alone, we both will be."

"I will catch up," Bellatrix answers fishing in her bag. "Wait there for me."

"How long for?" Hermione asks.

"Until sun rise if I don't appear then I am dead or worse."

This is a very bad idea, Hermione wants to protest, except the sight of her wand in Bellatrix' hand stops her. A cold hand grasps her own, her hand flat as the wand fits snugly into her palm, relief taking over at being reunited.

"Bellatrix." Hermione protests.

"Sun rise."

The door slams shut behind Bellatrix, a spark leaving her wand, sealing the door. Swallowing, Hermione watches the dark witch swallowed by the gloom of the night. Leaving a magical trace for the Death Eaters to follow.

"We should go after her." Hermione voices her concern.

"Your heart is in the right place; however, she is right. You are a liability. Her husband is a vile creature, I should know he is my cousin."

"You're a Lestrange?" Hermione asks turning to the woman.

"Yes, we are from France, did you not know? I always liked Bellatrix, she has a soul. I see her as true blood. Not my real cousins. They are very, very disturbed, in the mind."

"She's not safe."

"No, however, Bellatrix always knows how to handle Rod. You would be a distraction. Come we must move."

Following, the witch, Hermione expects them to go out the back door, except they are heading upwards. The stairs creaking and groaning beneath their feet. Following the swirling stairs upwards, passing the many floors littered with clothes and wigs. Pictures scowl at her passing, some wave, she focuses instead on Nour. They stop at the end of the stairs, a ladder that Nour clambers among unlocking the latch to the roof. With a heave the door swings upwards, the cold night's air rushing in.

Swinging her legs over the ledge, Hermione heaves herself out of the hatch. Feet splashing in a puddle, wand gripped tightly, she takes in the sight of Wizarding Paris. Hundreds of houses crammed together, rooftops leading a path towards their destination.

"Bois de Boulogne," Nour states peering into the distance. "That is where Bellatrix instructs me to take you. That is where we must go."

A violent bang in the distance makes the building shake, the plant pots tumbling and smashing on the roof. Turning, Hermione spies a flash in the distance magic. A duel.

"They have caught up, hurry now."

Swallowing, Hermione follows Nour, towards the end of the roof, watches as she jumps the small gap to a joining roof. Frowning, Hermione stares down to the wet pavement below a very sharp drop.

"What are you waiting for?" Nour demands.

"Isn't there an easier way?"

"No, this is the quickest. The streets, they move, the Aurors will swarm. This is the safest way."

Nodding, Hermione hops across the gap, landing on the rooftop opposite. She pauses studying the rickety roof tops the path they must take, heading towards safety. So many houses shoved together, no natural light.

Obediently, she follows Nour as she jumps roof tops, tiles slipping free and crashing to the ground below. Ducking below clothes drying, avoiding puddles and chuckling at Nour's jokes.

"Do you know why we're here?" Hermione asks Nour using a chimney to brace herself.

"Somewhat," Nour answers offering a hand.

Accepting, Hermione pulls herself across the high wall dividing the house. Soot laces her new clothes, she doesn't miss the way Nour shakes her head at the sight of dirty clothes. Smiling, Hermione wipes her sweaty hands, muscles aching from the jumping and clambering.

Crash. Both witches stop, glancing behind to the roof a few feet back. A window swinging open, tiles slipping from the roof. Are they being followed? Surely not, the Death Eaters followed Bellatrix, they can still hear the odd fight in the distance.

"Why do you ask?" Nour continues satisfied nothing is following them.

"Can Bellatrix have children?"

"That is a very personal question," Nour replies. "I am not on to gossip of such things…"

"She told me she couldn't." Hermione interrupts, leaping across a gap. "Nour, please I need to know. I need to know if this is another trick."

"Bellatrix would never lie about such a thing, especially to someone she considers,"

"Dirt?"

"I was going to say a stranger." Nour finishes not meeting Hermione's gaze.

"Is it true, she said there was an accident."

"Is that what she said." Nour scoffs. "That is a lie. It was no accident, listen to me child. My dear beautiful, Bella is a very dangerous woman. She is also a prudent liar."

"So, she's lying."

"About the reason yes, she cannot have a child not anymore. However, the reason is not her fault at all, it is not. She may blame herself, but it was not her doing. As I have said, Rod is a very nasty, vile and despicable man. What he did to her, what he has done…"

Nour trails off, collecting herself wiping away a tear. She turns back to Hermione regarding her through her glasses considering Hermione's worth.

"Rod took from Bellatrix what she holds most dear, what would you do? I ask you, Miss Granger, I ask for a favour from you when I have no right to. We let her down, we let Bellatrix down. Promise me, you won't let her down too."

Taken aback, Hermione follows the witch the words repeating like wild fire through her mind. She has heard that before, those exact words and it all comes crashing back to her. Sirius asked the same thing, in the same way. Could he have been speaking about Bellatrix this whole time? Not Harry. So, focused on her thoughts she misses her steps.

A tile cracks beneath her foot, she slips, a yelp leaving her lips. Her side hits the wet rooftop as she falls, sweeping downwards. She digs her fingers into the nearest thing, grabbing the gutter of the roof. It creaks under her weight but holds. Nour appears above, relaxing at seeing Hermione holding on. Summoning a rope, Nour drops the end for Hermione to take.

Wrapping her hand in the rope, Hermione waits as Nour ties her end to a chimney allowing Hermione to pull herself up. Fingers burning, she pulls herself away from the gutter, looking up towards Nour who eagerly hurries Hermione along.

"Did you know Sirius?" Hermione asks.

"This is not the time, pull yourself up."

"Please," Hermione replies heaving herself along the rope. "He was my friend, he said the same thing you did. I thought it was about someone else, but if he meant Bellatrix… Did he mean Bellatrix?"

"I. We met a few times, long, long time ago before he went to prison."

It's not the confession that makes her pause, no it's the glowing eyes from the streets below that makes her blood turn cold. She swallows, hands gripping the rope, as white teeth appear in the darkness. Large white fangs, as eyes glint with promise.

Forcing her feet, she pushes herself up the roof, gasping for air, fingers gripping the side of the roof. She lands with a thud, knees burning from the impact, Nour helping Hermione to her feet.

"We need to go, right now."

"Why the rush?" Nour questions brushing Hermione down.

A low pitch howl interrupts Nour's question, realisation dawning on the witch.

"Greyback, Bellatrix feared this…"

"Nour," Hermione interrupts the mumbling of the witch. "We need to move."

Shaking, Nour pulls herself together. Leading the way, feet pounding on the wooden tiles as they hop. It's the loud thudding of paws as they break into the houses. As Greyback climbs the side of the building heading to the roofs.

Jumping, she feels gravity pull at her until she lands with a loud thud on the roof below. A groan escaping Nour who lands next to her, leading their way across the roof tops.

"MUDBLOOD!" A voice shouts, she glances behind to see a Death Eater standing next to Greyback in wolf form. "MUDBLOOD! Don't run."

She narrowly misses the spell, the air rushing next to her face as it hits the timber of the roof. Slipping on tiles, Hermione finds her footing, jumping to the next roof, willing herself to go faster. To escape the pounding of paws, the spells that miss.

"We already have Bellatrix!" The voice shouts once more. "Come mudblood, My Lord seeks an audience with you."

Her heart sinks at the news, she shares a look with Nour who shakes her head. Reassurance they do not have Bellatrix, except the duelling in the distance has stopped. Ducking behind a chimney as Nour fires a spell back in retaliation.

"There," Nour points to the lights in the distance, an amber glow. "That is the park. You must hurry, there is an old church, use your magic to locate it."

"Your coming with me," Hermione replies clutching the woman's arm.

"Just in case we split you need to know where to go."

The roof they're standing on shakes, an old abandoned building, Hermione feels it give way. A grunt from the wizard chasing and a yelp from Greyback as they fall through the roof. Acting on instinct, Hermione reaches out grabbing the wall her fingers clutching. Her free hand digging into the Nour's jacket, a groan leaving her lips at the tug.

She loses her grip, but Nour manages to swing them on to a floor still standing. She almost wishes the fall has hurt the Death Eaters, however, she sees Greyback emerge from the rubble. The man pushing himself to his feet removing his mask. Dolohov. She remembers him from the Ministry. A curse clips the wall next to them.

She goes to retaliate, but a hand pulls her back, Nour dragging her along. Through a smashed window, they clamber through to the other side. Using the remaining sloping roof to slide down to the roof below.

Landing, Hermione spots a sharp knitting needle, fallen from Nour's pocket collecting it, Hermione follows the witch.

A gasp a small cry of pain as a spell hits Nour sending flying across the roof. Sliding to a stop, Hermione fires a stupefy at the charging Greyback. Flinging him back into the chimney a snarl leaving his lips. Dazed he staggers to his feet shaking his head.

Dolohov pauses the second attack wand drawn at Hermione he grins at her. Glancing between the wizard and the salivating wolf. Hermione considers her options. If she engages in a duel, Greyback will attack her, the beast snarling as he paces.

"Come now filth," Dolohov smirks. "We have Bella, what point is there in running?"

"If you have Bellatrix then I can go." Hermione reasons. "After all she was keeping me not the other way around."

"Yet you are all alone," Greyback growls sniffing the air.

"I escaped."

"You smell of Bellatrix, she smells of you," Greyback whispers inching closer pausing as he stops next to Dolohov. "A pretty little creature. I'd make you mine."

Stepping back, Hermione shivers in disgust, not allowing the man to lay a single finger on her. She knows Greyback's views, knows he wants to infect rather than kill. The very sight of him makes her nausea.

"Come with me," Dolohov says offering his hand. "Or I will let him have his fun."

"Go to hell," Hermione states.

A roar erupts from Greyback as he launches across the distance, tackling her to the ground, stealing the air from her lungs. She grapples for her wand, jaws snapping at her face. The laughter of Dolohov as he stalks closer. Fangs glisten with saliva, it drips against her cheek. Large hands pinning her wand and her hand above her head. A grin on the feral face.

She reacts, driving the knitting pin straight into the eye of Greyback. A yowl escaping the man as he falls backwards clutching his face. Blood pulsing between his fingers, he collapses crying in pain.

"Filthy bitch," A hex strikes her chest before the wand arcs once more. "Crucio."

It steals a cry of pain, sharp shooting needles they prod viciously at every nerve ending. A scream leaving her lips, tears leak from her eyes as she writhers on the ground. Every cell in her body feels as though it's dividing, tearing apart.

Hours seem to past, but she knows it must be mere minutes, as Greyback is still trying to pull the knitting pin from his eye. She remains gasping, reaching for her wand.

"I don't think so." He snarls pointing at the wand.

A red flash makes her jump as spell clashes against his shield. For a moment she thinks it's Bellatrix unkept hair blowing in the breeze until she realises it's Nour attacking. Her duelling not as refined, her spells bouncing from Dolohov's shield not making a dent in his defence.

Her arms like jelly, she pushes to her feet as the duel continues, a spell clips her heel forcing her back to her knees. A sneer from Dolohov as silent order remain still. A cry of pain from Greyback as he pulls the pin from his eye.

The duel ends with Nour's wand flying from her fingertips, forcing the witch backwards. Gleeful, Dolohov sneers as a spell leaves his wand. It hits a barrier constructed by Hermione protecting Nour. Anger replaces everything else as the wand turns to Hermione, she watches the lips moving. Knows she has no protection and there is no coming back from her actions.

A flash of colour, the spell goes wide as Hermione ducks, staring in disbelief as Nour tackles Dolohov. Taking the wizard by surprise, the chimney next to Hermione erupts, she covers her face as the brick flies freely cutting into her arm. A scream leaving her mouth as she watches transfixed witch and wizard fighting over the wand, losing their balance. They fall.

Rushing forward, her fingers dig into the wet stone, she watches as they fall into the gloom below. Listens to the thuds of bodies hitting the pavement. Disbelief, she cries out in shock, in horror calling Nour's name.

"Nour? NOUR!" She shouts until her voice goes hoarse.

"They're gone." A voice rumbles.

She dives to the side as paw smashes into the brick. Turning she stuns the wolf, rushing past the angry Greyback. She doesn't think, she jumps from the roof on to the one below, landing awkwardly on her ankle, she rushes forward. A roar chasing her, Greyback chasing her.

She spots an exit, sliding across the roof, she lands on to a cart on the ground. Her knees hitting the pavement, she rushes forward escaping the wizarding world. She appears into muggle Paris running straight into a muggle. Apologising, she pushes past them, feet pounding pavement.

A scream behind, a yell of fear she knows Greyback is chasing her. Not thinking, she spots a van with a low trailer pulling away. Running, she clutches the metal, pulling herself on to the trailer. Landing on top of screws and wood, she turns around. Staring at the charging werewolf, feels the van pull, ducking below the view of mirrors. She knows the driver has seen the wolf chasing them.

A howl breaks the night, as they drive straight in to traffic, eyes glinting Greyback gives chase. Knocking a driver from his scooter, a car hits him bouncing of his wearwolf form, a hand reaching for the trailer. She grabs the plank of wood next to her launches it as his face.

A growl, Greyback loses his footing hitting the pavement with a sickening smack, cars screeching to a halt near him. She loses sight of him in the midst of traffic, the van slowing to the speed limit. Crawling along the van, Hermione points her wand to the driver, silently ordering him to take her to the park.

Relaxing in the back, she applies basic field treatment to her ankle. Tears springing from her eyes for Nour hopes the witch survived the fall. Hates herself for leaving the witch behind.

It's the soft touch of the sun that snaps her from her stupor, the sun running along her forearm. Sun rise. Bellatrix, if she survived will she wait? Would she already assume Hermione has left? Am I alone?

She doesn't even wait for the van to stop completely before she jumps from the back. Thanking the driver who blinks at her confused. Rushing through the park, she notices a few people heading home, not stopping to think why they would be in the park overnight.

"Where? Where am I meant to go?" She whispers, anxiety taking hold.

Staring around, Hermione feels ice cold dread rushing through her body, staring at the vast park. Will Bellatrix wait? Is Bellatrix even coming? Stop, stop. Find the church. Forcing her shaking hands to work, she casts a spell, searching the park for the church. Almost laughing when her spell detects the charm in the distance. She rushes forward ignoring the aching pain from her ankle.

Passing the lake, she enters the charm an old medieval church amongst trees. The sun rising higher, she is running out of time. Pressing against the door, she almost cries when she realises it's locked, she casts a few spells. Nothing unlocks it, cursing she hits the door in frustration.

She spots a fallen ladder and a window, she acts. Grabbing the ladder, she rushes up the wooden step's hands forcing the window open, she slips inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, she glances around the church, disappointed at finding herself alone. Searching for the stairs, she finds her way down to the pew.

A howl in the distance stops her, closing her eyes she tries not to let dread sink in. Greyback has followed her, she's not alone after all. There's no sight of another living creature, no sight of Bellatrix, she will have to leave, find the exit and leave. Rushing to the back room she looks for the portal, searching through cupboards. Pushing plates aside, she finds nothing.

Standing at the base of the podium, she wonders if there's a basement? Perhaps another fireplace.

Creak.

The wooden floorboards creak behind her, she shivers, listening to the noise behind her, hair standing on end. Swallowing, she clutches her wand, she has only one shot at hitting Greyback.

Swirling around, a hex leaving her lips, a hand grasps her wrist pointing her wand upwards. The spell hitting the rafters, she throws a punch. A gasp leaving her attacker, a groan of annoyance, a hood removed, angry eyes glaring at her.

"Fuck, muddy," Bellatrix curses nursing her chin. "That's one hell of a hook."

"Bellatrix," Hermione breathes in disbelief.

"No shit," grumbles the witch. "I see you haven't lost your keen eye."

Despite the slurs and jibe, Hermione does the unthinkable. She hugs the witch, throwing her arms around the dark witch's shoulders pulling her close. Ignores the way Bellatrix goes rigid beneath the embrace but she doesn't care. She buries her face grief striking her numb.

"Nour… she. She fell from the roof." Hermione whispers.

A single hand presses against the middle of her back, reassurance? Acknowledgement? Hermione doesn't know, the witch remains quiet allowing Hermione the moment. Giving Hermione the space to pull herself back together.

Taking a deep breath, she pulls away wiping the tears from her eyes, feeling foolish for crying. For crying in front of Bellatrix, tries to get her body under control as Bellatrix watches her uneasily.

"They said they had you." Hermione manages to get out.

"They tried," Bellatrix replies casually. "I reminded them why I was the Dark Lords best."

"So that's it?" Hermione asks, will they send more? She wonders to herself.

"For now,"

"Will they come again?"

"Yes," Bellatrix nods standing tall in her suit as though she's just been to a party and not a duel. "Next time my Lord will come. He will not tolerate failure. I almost feel sorry for the fools, almost."

The door jolts, making Hermione jump she points her wand. She knows exactly who has followed, Greyback has chased her. The doors shake again as the wolf forces his body against the wood. She listens to the cracking as the wood splinters apart. Glances to Bellatrix who is studying the door in amusement, head tilted.

The lock brakes, wood shattering, Greyback crashes into the room, eye bleeding and sealed shut. Blood dripping down his face, fangs showing he growls.

"I will rip you apart, then I will fuck your dirty little cunt." Greyback threatens as he stalks forward.

"Sounds delightful," Bellatrix replies hand pushing Hermione behind the Dark witch.

A cruel grin spreads across Bellatrix features, as Greyback pauses anger disappearing as he notices Bellatrix for the first time. Hermione recognises fear take hold in the beast as he slinks in front of Bellatrix.

"I love what you've done with your eye, we going for the pirate look?" Bellatrix taunts.

"I want the mudblood Bellatrix, give me the witch."

"Nope, she's mine and you know I don't like sharing."

"LOOK at me!" Greyback roars. "Look at my eye. You fucking bitch."

Shrinking, Hermione clutches her wand, would Bellatrix sell her out to Greyback? Dark eyes regard Hermione who manages to remain strong despite the fear running through her veins.

"I don't think she cares," Bellatrix summarises. "Send a message for me though."

The spell lashes out of the curved wand hitting Greyback in the chest sending the wolf flying backwards out of the door all in seconds. Blinking, Hermione barely has time to think as a hand curves around her waist a portal in hand. She watches as Greyback charges back into the church. In a twist they vanish, the portal pulling them backwards, taking them to the next level.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Fucking trees. Why does it have to be sodding trees everywhere they go. She curses under her breath leaning against said tree in disgust, she is tired of the fucking wilderness. Tired of this whole stupid, bloody fucking thing. The stupid thing they have only just started. She already has come to despise it, bored already with the stupid levels.

Her side twinges, she refuses to gasp despite the nerve-racking pain will not allow her husband the joy. Will never allow him the joy, knowing he might have hurt he will never hurt her. Not ever again. She made that promise to herself a long time ago. Pressing her hand too her side, she winces at the blood, grateful for the dark clothing. She could do without the mudblood faffing, heaven knows she's good at it.

Body still twitching from the hug, she glances to the mudblood who appears to be nursing her water. Bellatrix wishing for something much stronger, she remembers her bottle of vodka she swiped from Nour. Dear Nour.

Why did muddy hug her? The question repeats through her mind why was she so relieved to see Bellatrix. Bellatrix of all people, the one person she should be scared of seeing and yet she was happy.

"Why does it have to be trees?" Muddy says aloud between swigs of her water. "I mean why constantly trees?"

"The magic," Bellatrix says hoarsely aware she is losing her voice. She coughs, the action causing more pain but it clears her for now. "Ancient magic, the trials prevent anything being built upon the lands used."

"Then what about Paris."

"We all know the best monsters are human." Bellatrix shrugs.

Nodding, Hermione pockets her flask noticing the blood on her clothes, she pulls her top away. She's not injured not bleeding. Does the blood belong to Greyback?

Bellatrix watches the mudblood check herself for injuries, wonders how long it will take the witch to piece it all together. To know it's Bellatrix who is bleeding that maybe the duel didn't go to plan as she promised.

"Your bleeding!" There it is.

She bats the hands reaching for her away, not wanting the aid of the mudblood. No, she is Bellatrix Lestrange Nee Black, she relies on no one especially not a mudblood.

"Bellatrix, your injured."

"I'm aware." Bellatrix answers angrily. "We need to make camp, let's move."

"We need to tend to your injury." The Mudblood argues daring to grab Bellatrix's arm.

"Touch me again filth, I dare you." Bellatrix threatens.

"Your injured, stop being a nob and let me heal it."

Surprised by the language, Bellatrix resists the urge to laugh, it will do no good for her injury. An insistent hand moves her coat aside, she allows the action. Allows the hesitant hand to tug on her top. Rolling her eyes, Bela lifts the top for the mudblood to admire her newly acquired scar. It will scar, she knows this, Rod always likes to leave marks.

"Shit." The Mudblood whispers.

It's an impressive injury, Bellatrix will give Rod that. The cut running from the top of her rib cage downward zig zagging to her pelvis. Blood it oozes, soaking anything that touches, watches the mudblood try to heal it. If anything it provides a mere pain relief.

"It won't heal," The mudblood mutters frustrated at her lack of magic.

"Done?" Bellatrix asks sliding her top down. "We need to set camp."

"We need help."

"What, you going to find us a Grizzly bear? Be a good dear MR Grizzly make us a cup of tea while you stitch up my dear friend here. Please don't eat us in the mean time? Because there's fuck all out here muddy but us."

"I'll find someone."

Cackling, Bellatrix pushes the mudblood away, the witch forever hopeful. The action is foolish, she trips over her own feet, clutching her side she hisses in pain. She feels a hand grab her arm, she is quick to shove the mudblood away.

"Let me help you."

"Fuck off." Bellatrix pants.

She focuses solely on walking, except she's aware she's leaning heavily on the trees for support. Her vision is doubling and the path is impossible to walk. Too weak to push the mudblood away as she hooks Bellatrix's arm over her shoulder. Aware that she leaning heavily on the mudblood for support, that she has lost too much blood.

"Shit, someone's coming." The mudblood whispers pulling out her wand. "Bellatrix, I need you to stay with me. Bellatrix."

Her knees buckle, pulling the witch down with her. Her knees bashes against a root of a tree, her fingers soaked with blood. She's aware of a cold hand on her neck checking her pulse. Of voices of the mudblood with her wand pointed at figures in a tree. Flashes of light and nothing.


	7. Four Leaf Clover

"My dear Bella," The voice is cold, the room dark. She's been here before a very long time ago. "You've disappointed me."

She's heard those words before, never with such vehemence, such anger lacing the words. The hand cradling her cheek is sharp, nails digging cutting into her flesh. She's done it this time, this time there is no coming back.

"My Lord," She whispers the words, she cannot see. "I can explain, please."

"You deserted me."

"No."

"Left me. My most faithful, no more."

"No,"

"Silence."

Light is harsh it blinds her as the blindfold is removed, the chains remain in place. She knows these chains, these chains her old friends. She's too dangerous to be held merely by magic. A grin it forms on that of her husband who paces in the back ground. Over her Lord's shoulder, she refuses to look at her lord, focuses her anger on Rod.

"Bella." The words a whisper a warning.

"I did this for you." Bella replies looking to her Lord. "Please."

"Begging never suited you Bella, your too much of snake for that." Her Lord hisses moving away towards Rod.

Her eyes adjust to the shadows to the other form in the room chained to the wall. To the blood pooling on the floor. To her dagger buried deep into the heart. Long hair caked in sweat and blood. Remorse it touches her soul, staring at the empty eyes that look upwards. Mudblood.

"I thought you would have learnt by now." Rod snarls, pulling her dagger free of the mudblood. "A lesson you'll never forget. Your no ones Belle."

The name makes the hair on her arms stand up, she hates the name. She is not Belle, she is Bella, not this fictional character her husband likes to believe she is. Not this house wife he always wanted but never received.

"No one but mine. Now she's dead… I am the Dark Lords Lieutenant and you, you are nothing."

The dagger swipes through the air, delving deep into her stomach stealing a scream…

She jolts hand swiping through the air hitting someone who stumbles away. The pressure on her stomach unbearable, she groans under the pain. Her body numb not reacting, her wand not in sight, she growls as a hand pushes her back down.

"Bellatrix, Bellatrix calm down." The voice is familiar, not her sister though. Another hand appears resting on her bare shoulder. "Bellatrix, it's me. Hermione. Calm down. Your safe, your safe."

Panting, Bella squints at the witch hovering above her, the hand resting against her neck. Glancing to another who returns to tending to her wounds. The last few hours returning to her. It's just a dream. Just a dream.

"She's a mediwitch," The mudblood explains to the witch currently healing her as though reading Bella's mind. "You have a fever, you're probably confused. Everything is fine though, promise. Your safe."

She doesn't feel safe, she feels bare her wand no where to be seen, her body too weak to even wield it correctly. Reliant on the mudblood, who some how managed to find help in the middle of a trial?

"How?" Bella manages to rasp out.

"I found someone," the young witch shrugs. "Like I said I would."

"Fuck me." Bella groans collapsing back down, trust the mudblood to prove her wrong. "You're a fucking clover you are."

Blushing, the girl pulls away snorting to herself, Bella glances to the witch healing her, not missing the gaze darting between the two witches. In all honesty, Bella couldn't have picked better than a bloody lucky charm the mudblood is turning in to.

The fever takes hold, they restrain one of her arms as she has tendency to lash out at the helping aid. The fever subsides eventually, the dreams pass.

She becomes aware she is sharing some sort of bedroom with the mudblood… with the girl. She admires her scar when alone, sickened to see another on her body, she pretends to be asleep that night the girl returns.

When morning arrives, she manages to rise to her feet, ignoring the slight cheer from the girl. Stretching her leg, she rejoices at the movement. Her hand snatching up her wand, she grins holding the walnut wand. They let her rest, but she fails to. Aware of the amount of time that has passed too much time that could have been spent on the trials. How many days has she stayed bed ridden?

She will ask the girl, her plucky little mudblood. Rising, she tenses as her scar stretches, heading to the wooden door. She imagines they are in a tent perhaps? She wonders how they managed to get here?

"She would be proud." The words make her pause hand resting on the wooden door, listening to the mediwitch talking to her mudblood. "Your mother would be proud of you."

"Oh, no. No, she's not my mum." The girl replies, Bella can imagine the flushing on her face.

"Ah apologise I just assumed with the marks."

"Marks?"

Swallowing, Bella grits her teeth, hand vibrating. She considers cursing the mediwitch preventing her from spilling her secret to the world. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Child birth marks." The witch answers the mudbloods question. "I assumed you were her daughter, it would make the age correct."

"Oh," Turning, Bella can imagine everything running through the mudbloods mind. "No, she's… she's my friend."

Bella snorts at that, can imagine how much it would have hurt the mudblood to admit that. To say it aloud.

"Well, I'm sure she's grateful. You kept her alive till we got there, without your quick thinking she would have died. How is your ankle?"

"Healed thanks."

"Good, perhaps you should see if she would like some lunch? Maybe good to get her some fresh air?"

Retreating from the door, Bella heads to her bed not fancying the questions. Mind running, how did the mudblood manage to get them here? Will she ask questions? The door creaks open, listens to the soft foot fall of the mudblood. The hesitancy, Bella pretends to sleep, hating herself for avoiding the conversation.

Listens to the soft clink of a bowl on the floor. A hand pressing to her shoulder, she tenses despite herself. Cursing herself, she's meant to be asleep now the mudblood will know she's awake.

"Hey," The mudblood says softly, Bella waits for the questions. "When your up for it, I want to show you something. It's awesome."

She listens to the retreating footfall, as the mudblood leaves the room. Curling into herself, Bella presses herself shut, hand clutching ancient marks on her body. She fights back tears, she will not cry for this again, never again. The trial will fix what she broke, will fix her mistakes.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Smiling, Hermione grins at the little boy playing with his toys, showing her his massive collection of dinosaurs. She winces as he splashes his dinosaur in the water roaring and giggling. Chuckling, she shuffles his messy mousey brown hair, resisting the urge to wipe the dirt from his face. His mother watches fondly in the background, cleaning clothes.

Running her wand through her hands she tries not to let her mind run with the news of Bellatrix. She had a child… The news is shocking it feels as though everything has changed. Bellatrix Lestrange had a child? Was it still alive, did it die, was it stillborn? Is that why she wants to make a wish to fix it all?

"Hermione," Glancing behind, Hermione finds Jakku, the Mediwitch healing Bellatrix and the head of the small tribe. "We will be gathering in the main room for tea. Will you be joining us?"

"Yes," Hermione nods glancing to the main tent where it hides the big round fire and the bar area.

"If your friend has risen it would do her good to mingle. One can get lost in their own thoughts."

Nodding, Hermione smiles as Jakku presses a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Tapping the hand she watches the little boy run off to help his mother carry clothes to their small tent. She's not sure how she managed to get so lucky. How she managed to find this little travelling group, but she's so very reassured.

The cold air it clings to her lungs, her charm prevents her from freezing though. She watches the ice caps in the distance, as the water laps at the edge, pulling pebbles into the sea. Her bum numb from sitting, she stretches, her ankle twinging in pain. She managed to sprain it, now healed Jakku promised it would always remain weak.

"This seat taken?" A gruff voice startles her, turning she's startled to see Bellatrix standing behind her.

Nodding, Bellatrix slowly lowers herself on to the stone, drawing her coat around her. Hermione can feel the warmth of the witches charm, tries not to stare at the paleness of Bellatrix's skin. Nor notice how tired the witch appears, instead she remains silent watching the sea.

"You wanted to show me something?" Bellatrix rasps.

Hermione points upwards, ignoring the frown from Bellatrix, who eventually complies. A short gasp from the witch as she realises the beauty above them. Rising unsteady to her feet, Bellatrix stares at the sky.

"A river in the sky." Hermione answers.

It truly is, a raging river flowing through the sky, she can spot towns sometimes, even cities rushing past. A stream of the trials, Jakku said, they are out of place for the time. Neither in the trial nor in the real world. It's beautiful the river that carries on, almost a circle of life.

"How?" Bellatrix asks.

"Ask Jakku, she's invited us for tea."

Resisting the urge to help the witch, Hermione quietly leads the way to the main tent walking slower than usual to allow Bellatrix time to keep up. They sit amongst the other citizens of the travelling group. A loud atmosphere of laughter, stories shared, food passed around it even manages to bring a smile to Bellatrix's face. Wine, beer and alchol passed in plenty. The community full of interesting facts and survival techniques.

It's when the children show their tiredness do the community start to disperse, Hermione and Bellatrix remaining with a few of the main tribe. Jakku, two of the elders who help run the group. Jakku's son and her fearless daughter. Who stays to herself, swirling whiskey around her glass lying on the arm chair. Hermione fails to look at the daughter, they didn't exactly meet on best terms and every time they make eye contact, she cannot help but blush.

Bellatrix notices the tension, Hermione hopes the witch will just ignore it. She's also grateful Bellatrix is on her best behaviour she has yet to insult anyone. She has also referred to Hermione as 'plucky' rather than her usual slur. She's not sure which one is more irritating.

"Alright," Bellatrix says sipping her wine. "I'll bite, how did you find these fine folk and all their beautiful alcohol."

"Here, here." Rags raises his flask to Bellatrix's speech.

"She doesn't know?" Hera, Jakku's daughter grins wildly. "Such an epic story, how could you avoid your companion such a treat?"

Flushing, Hermione wishes she didn't have to tell the story, it's more embarrassing than anything. Swinging her legs, Hera's blade tucked in her blonde dreadlocks glints in the fire. A scar that runs through her eye brow quirks with enjoyment.

"Perhaps your ven has more pressing questions?" Jakku interjects.

"Mor, your no fun." Heta grumbles collapsing back into her chair.

"Like she's already packed her bag? Yours too Miss Granger," Glancing to Bellatrix, Hermione notices the wand twitch in the Death Eaters hand. "Relax Mrs Lestrange."

"You told them who we were?" Bellatrix hisses to Hermione.

"No."

"We do read Mrs Lestrange." Jakku replies revealing the paper a different one but her name still covers the front page. "However, we are not here to judge merely curious. Perhaps for you to understand we mean no harm that you trial is not in danger we should explain more about ourselves."

"You knew all this time?" Hermione asks, not once did Jakku bring this up.

"What can we say, all love a good damsel in distress." Heta winks at Hermione who blushes.

"So spill," Bellatrix orders ignoring Heta. "Why no Aurors."

"It's simple," Jakku answers with a small shrug. "We do not exist."

"I swear if you don't start talking sense I'm going to get cranky." Bellatrix snaps.

"Step down small fry or I'll open you back up." Heta threatens rising to her feet.

"Please," Bellatrix scoffs reclining in her seat she eyes Heta with despair. "You jumped up little hippy, have you actually used your wand? Or do you prefer to wield your big sword in the hopes to scare."

"Heta!" Jakku interfers. "Sit."

"Mor?"

"No, sit. Mrs Lestrange may have unintentionally helped us."

"How so?" Bellatrix demands, smirking as Heta slinks back to her seat.

"We know all about the trials, after all we belong to them. You see, our great, great forefathers came here, searching for greatness in the name of the trial. They however disobeyed the basic rules, they crossed one of the makers. Who in return allowed them the luxury of their wish but cursed them for the fool heartedness. Their wish became a curse, they become trapped they wished for wealth for their families. To own their own homes, to be the highest member of society. They cursed our whole tribe, we became in trapped in the trials. Forever travelling between the safe zones, never able to leave. We train our best to attempt the trials, but they never return. My daughter Hera, she is due to go next to free us of our curse. Our champion." Jakku answers nursing her drink.

"How does Bellatrix help?" Hermione asks.

"We were told the day a Blackness arrives, we will know it is time to try again. The darkness will come in the arms of another, an offering. Arms of an angel who deliver on to us a Black to remove the curse placed up us." Jakku answers. "You delivered Bellatrix to us, we have done the Black family a favour in healing Bellatrix. In return we have favoured the forefathers. We will now be able to pass through, to reach the end."

"Muddy isn't an angel, and I am not one to offer a favour." Bellatrix dismisses. "I'm grateful for the healing but that was Muddy's desire not mine."

"I did not save your life," Jakku smiles. "No, you do not owe me any favour Miss Granger saved you, I merely offered sanctuary."

"It's a good story." Hermione shrugs not meeting the dark eyes boring into her.

"No, you misunderstand. You have showed us another way to reach the end of the trials. You have arrived with an enemy Mrs Lestrange…"

"Bellatrix," Bellatrix interrupts. "Husband is dead next time I see him."

"Very well, Bellatrix we have never seen this before. Lovers, friends and family have all entered the trials. All of them relying on one another, but you chose an enemy. Where no loyalty remains, no trust can be broken and this perhaps could be our answer." Jakku nods. "You cannot win the trials alone, but if we send my daughter with another who is she dislikes or very well despise we could be free from this curse. Our tribe could be free."

"Or she could die?" Bellatrix mutters.

"My death is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things." Heta replies proudly.

"Preferably no one dies." Hermione voices, earning an eye roll from Bellatrix. "Is there no other way to escape?"

"You are too good," Jakku smiles patting Hermione's hand. "We must learn sacrifice to truly understand our hearts desire. There is no other way."

"I will willingly sacrifice myself the freedom of our people." Heta nods at her mother. "We have suffered too long, I cannot allow that to go on."

"Oh gosh." Bellatrix mutters downing her drink.

Ignoring, Bellatrix, Hermione glances to Heta who remains so self assured, so certain. She admires her, to be so confident in her own ability. To know she could possibly die in the hopes to free her family from a curse caused by her ancient tribe members. Meeting the blue gaze, Hermione wonders if it's the drink that has made her go hot, perhaps she should slow down.

"So," Bellatrix drawls picking at her chair. "Tell me how you managed to find these people. This epic story?"

Breaking the eye contact, Hermione turns to Bellatrix notices the smirk on the witches face. The raised eye brow, how long had Hermione been staring at Heta.

"It is by far a good story." Heta chuckles not aware of the tension or simply ignoring it.

"I'd rather not." Hermione mutters rubbing her face.

"You should not be shy for your bravery," Heta announces smiling. "It was a grand entrance."

Rubbing her forehead, Hermione remembers things a little differently. She didn't feel so grand when it all happened if anything she feels foolish. She felt terrified at the time and now Bellatrix will hear it all.

They both hit the ground with a thud, groaning, Hermione checks the witches pulse. The eyes sliding shut, she slaps the face willing the witch to wake up. A twig snaps, she makes out of a shake of someone moving towards them. Shrubs moving apart, clutching Bellatrix's arm, Hermione wonders if there friend or foe? How does she even know anymore?

"Bellatrix, I need you to wake up. Please." Hermione pleads, noticing the blood pooling on the leaves. "Shit."

Rising to her feet, she stands over Bellatrix, wondering just who is heading towards them. The shrub pushes aside as large black nose appears sniffing the air. Emotionless eyes stare Hermione down, a low growl. Transifxed Hermione watches the creature lift on it's back legs sniffing the air, before two large paws thud back against the ground.

"You can't be serious." Hermione whispers.

Staring at the white fur, Hermione prepares her spell, adrenaline soaring through her body, she stares down the polar bear. She cannot help the laugh that escapes her lips, of course it would be a bear, how could it not be? Pointing her wand, Hermione struggles with herself she doesn't want to hurt the creature.

Flexing her wand, she casts a simple curse, she needs to appear bigger. Stronger. To scare the bear away. Several replicas appear behind her, startling the bear. They shimmer in the sunlight but they hold all her replicas pointing their wand at the bear.

It roars, a quick spell snaps from her wand hitting the tree near the bears head, making it duck. Watches it growl. Her heart sinks, noticing two little bundles of fluff in the distance. It's a mother. She cannot hurt this creature.

"Incendio." She points her wand against the ground.

It draws a fire, creating a wall between them. The flames licking at the fur of the polar bear that slinks backwards. Reaching into her bag, Hermoine dares to take her eyes of the animal, searching desperately for what she needs. Her hands land on the item, pulling she pulls the carcass frozen by Bellatrix. Their dinner, but she notices the slimness of the mother bear.

A deer carcass, Bellatrix will kill her, but she doesn't care. Defrosting the body, Hermione notices the twitching nose, knows she has the attention of the bear. Swishing her wand she sends the carcass through the flames. It lands with a thud next to the bears feet. Lifting Bellatrix with her wand, Hermione steps backwards, the bear studying the carcuss.

"Go on, I won't hurt you. Please just take it and leave."

A low growl leaves the bear as large teeth dig into the carcass lifting the dead deer into the mouth of the bear. It retreats away from Hermione towards her young. Releasing a breath, Hermione heads in the opposite direction, leaving the fire to burn just in case the bear decides to follow.

Her magic steals at her adrenaline, she settles hiding between the roots of a giant tree. Placing Bellatrix down, she searches the bag for anything to step the bleeding. Her fingers wrap around a bottle of vodka. A large t-shirt. She gets to work, ripping the t-shirt with bellatrix' knife, she creates a bandage. Tying the arms she creates the adhesive to hold it all together.

"This will hurt." Hermione warns the passed out Bellatrix.

Unscrewing the vodka, she reveals Bellatrix's adomen wincing at the sight of the cut. She's going to die, it's the only thought that keeps her working. Taking a swig of the vodka she coughs at the vile taste before dowsing Bellatrix's wound with it. The witch twitching in her dreamless sleep. Apologising, Hermione casts as many healing spells as she can, she's going to need a blood replenishing potion.

Securing the top against the wound, Hermione uses the sleeves to tie the bandage. It won't hold for long. If Bellatrix dies, she will be left here alone, scared and with no way out. Tilting the witches head, she drips water into the slightly open mouth.

"Don't you dare die." Hermione whispers, aware of the blood on her hands.

Talking gains her attention, grabbing Bellatrix she pulls the witch into hiding. Drawing her wand, she hears the laughter, a woman. The word potions gains her attention, peeking she notices an older lady carrying a bag full of ingredients. Another bag, chinking. Potions.

Grabbing the dagger, Hermione considers her conscious, could she rob these people? Could she really? The pale face of Bellatrix, the fear of forever being trapped here is enough to persuade her. Counting in her head, she inches closer, noticing a woman. Tall blonde dreadlocks scouting the are for threats. Hermione deems her a more of a threat, possibly the leader.

Swallowing, she doesn't allow herself to think, her feet move. Boots digging into the cold ground floor, propelling her forward, she stuns the nearest person. Sliding behind the woman, she presses the dagger against her pale neck. Forcing her to drop her wand, Hermione points her wand at the older lady carrying the bags. Aware of the other wizards all poiting their wands at her.

"The bags," Hermione orders voice faltering. "And she lives."

Tapping the dagger to the woman's neck, Hermione tries to ignore the horrible feeling. How can she rob an old lady? What has she come too.

"Vi mener ingen skade." The old lady replies showing both her hands. "læg dit våben ned."

"What? I don't speak, Danish? Your bags."

"Skal jeg dræbe hende?" The woman in her arms speaks to the old woman.

"Quiet." Hermione orders.

"Nej, hun er bare et barn."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm sorry child," The old woman says with a warm smile. "What do you need?"

"Blood replenishing potion." Hermione answers glancing at the wizards. "Please."

"I don't have one with me, but my tribe does, we can help you, are you injured? I am a mediwitch?"

"Mor!"

"My dear, she is just a child." The old lady replies to the woman in her arms. "Dear there is no need for this."

"I'm sorry, but people have done nothing but try to kill me for the last few days."

"It is the case of the trials." The Old lady says sympathetically. "Please let my daughter go, before she hurts you."

The witch twists in her arms, stealing the dagger and twisting the wand from her grip. She finds herself against a tree, the dagger against her throat. The younger witch smirks, flipping the dagger so Hermione can take the hilt.

"Your cute." The young witch smiles. "Heta, this is my mother Jakku. The guy you knocked out my brother Rags. What's your name?"

"Hermione."

"Well Hermione, next time you better buy me a drink before you do something like that again."

"I've never done that before."

"I can tell."

Flushing, Hermione tries not to notice the wink, nor how hot she feels under the gaze of Heta. Wandling forward, Jakku smiles at Hermione offering her wand back that Heta took.

"Take me to your friend, are they close?"

Nodding, she darts from view, fighting with herself, they wouldn't give her wand back if they wanted to hurt her? Would they? No she trusts them, she finds Bellatrix where she left her. Using her wand she lifts the witch carrying her towards the waiting party.

"Oh dear, we must hurry,". Jakku states, hands brushing against the wound. "She has lost too much blood. Take her to the camp. Your ankle needs seeing to."

"I'm fine, just help her."

"She will live, you have assured that much."

They lie her flat on a cart, Jakku clambering on to the cart, she begins to chant trying to heal the wound. She will live. She saved Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who kill Sirius Black. Her friend and the woman who kidnapped her. A nudge from Heta gets her moving, she saved Bellatrix Lestrange.

She should have left her to die.

"And that is the story of your little heroics." Heta chuckles, as Rags shoves Hermione in good faith. "We need to work on your hostage talk but it was a fine start. You owe her your life Bellatrix, without you the bear would have ate you alive if you didn't die from your wounds."

Nails dig into the chair, Bellatrix remains composed otherwise, but Hermione can see the storm in black eyes. Those eyes that regard Hermione coldly, she returns the stare. She saved Bellatrix… and her mind wishes she let the witch die.

"To Hermione." Heta announces lifting her glass.

"Here, here."

"To Hermione." Bellatrix's rough voice startles her, the smile unnerves her and her name falling from the demons lips frightens her. "What ever would I have done without you."

"We're even." Hermione answers calmly.

"We'll see."


	8. Chains of Society

"The chains that break you, are the chains that make you. And the chains that make you, are the chains you break."

― Anthony Liccione

Stretching, Hermione removes the kink from her back, grateful to be sleeping on a proper bed, but the lumpy mattress does nothing for her. She has managed to wake up early again, she feels as though she is in a different time zone. Perhaps they are? It reminds her of the time she went to America with her parents, they always rose before everyone else. Before the locals, she used to go for a walk with her father, getting breakfast at the local café.

Reminiscing brings remorse, for her parents, will she ever see them again? She tries not to dwell on this, instead, she slips inside the coat given to her by the tribe. Made from the skin of an animal, they declined to comment on which. She declined to ask, instead of enjoying the warmth it provides.

She slips from the room, not wanting to disturb Bellatrix, tripping over her own feet in the dark. Journeying through the tent, she passes Rags passed out by the fire, smiling she ducks under a low chandelier.

The fresh air is brisk, she inhales the smell of smoke and breakfast cooking. Another tent the hive of activity preparing breakfast, she trudges away. Trundling along the path near the sea, that laps against the stones. In the distance, she admires the ice bergs, that stand in solitude out in the ocean. She spots a polar bear in the very far distance chasing a Seal into the sea, she wonders if it's the mother she bumped in to.

Deciding to go the other way, she follows the trail noticing foot prints left by someone else. She wonders if Heta has risen early to hunt for the tribe, she follows the prints. Even as they divert from the path, slipping through parted shrubs away from the camp. She spots clothes thrown against some rocks, slipping into the alcove, Hermione wonders where Heta has gone.

It's when she spots the figure in the water, bent over. Swallowing, at the strong shoulders as they lift from the water. Tries not to trace the droplets of water that trickle down the pale back. The dark hair resting over one shoulder, magic it pulses in the water.

Hermione can feel it, as the water bubbles a hand snapping out a powerful blast sending a small tidal wave in the other direction. The water crashing heavily against the unoccupied land, a spell unleashed the water erupts. The air burns with intensity, heat it blisters against Hermione's skin as she watches in awe. The impressive display of raw magic as the witch in the water releases her power.

Black hair?

The thought snaps her from her daze as intense black eyes turn to her. Shit. She fights the blush, fights it with all her might even as the witch in the water turns to her and the magic, she can feel it redirecting. She waves a simple hello, hiding her cheeks by blowing heat into her hands.

A laugh erupts as powerful legs propel the witch from the water, Hermione grateful the witch is at least wearing undergarments. Studying the handiwork on the sleeve of her coat she ignores the goddess of the sea as the witch walks from the water. Hermione's eyes snagging on the many scars lining what would be a perfect body.

Curses herself for not noticing the expensive underwear, cursing herself more for wondering why she would? How did she mistake Heta for Bellatrix? Then again, she thought Bellatrix was sleeping, so why would she think the witch was out here.

"Enjoying the view." The taunt is expected.

"Yeah, I love looking at the ice glaziers," Hermione answers folding her arms.

"Nice save." Bellatrix chuckles, drying her hair with her wand.

"What are you doing?"

"Drying my hair."

"No," Hermione replies she didn't miss the witch, almost prefers her in a coma. "In the water."

"Bathing."

"They have hot water."

"I have magic," Bellatrix answers sarcastically. "I don't trust generosity, forgive me muddy if you expect me to use all their things without considering the outcome."

"Are you saying I'm sponging?" Hermione asks insulted.

"Aren't you?"

"They offered us sanctuary."

"Again, I wonder why."

"Look, they're nice people…"

"And what would they have done to us if we weren't who we are? If we didn't offer them a solution to their fucked-up lives?"

"They didn't know who we were when they found us."

"When you held them at wand point?"

"Let's not talk about that." Hermione dismisses, taking a seat on a rock as Bellatrix stretches not bothering to get changed. "Can't you put some clothes on?"

"Struggling not to look?" Bellatrix cackles. "Besides you disturbed me, go away if you have a problem."

"I wish it was that easy," Hermione responds the comment earns a glare.

Rubbing her hands, Hermione reaches for her own wand, casting a charm to keep her limbs from freezing. Why is she still here? She could head back to the camp away from Bellatrix after all soon it will be just them two again. Stuck together once more, she should enjoy other company before she loses it once more.

Instead, she remains firmly planted, waiting for what? Waiting for Bellatrix to finish? Perhaps it's her stubborn nature, wanting to persuade Bellatrix that these people are good people. Or reassure her own concern that she did the right thing by asking for help?

"That magic, it was wandless magic wasn't it? I've never seen anything like it before." Hermione breaks the silence.

"Your fangirling is beginning to ire me."

"I'm not fangirling, I've just… I've only read such magic in books I've never seen it in person."

"Are you saying you wish to study me?" Bellatrix smirks, turning to Hermione who flushes a deep red.

"No… no, no I… err."

"Shush," Bellatrix waves her away. "You bore me. Too easy to wind up muddy, need to learn not to become so flustered. After a while of being dormant, my magic becomes restless even in Azkaban, they make you use magic. No one likes what happens when magic builds up and grows out of control."

"I've heard what happens."

"Have you? Did you know it's excruciatingly painful for the person to experience, that it's worse than ten crucios? Your blood boils beneath your skin, you can feel as though your skeleton is trying to free itself. Your body rips itself apart… It drives you mad."

"Is… Is that what happened, to you?"

"Are you saying I'm mad?" Bellatrix questions tilting her head.

"No, I think your sane." Hermione answers honestly, shivering in the bitter wind, she misses the look of surprise that crosses Bellatrix's face. "Honestly, I don't think your crazy, perhaps in the moment of a battle, some might say passionate."

"Some might think your wrong," Bellatrix mutters, pulling some slacks on, she ties a belt around her waist, a shirt hanging open.

Forcing her eyes, away from the witch, Hermione focuses on anything, anything but the amazingly dressed witch in front of her. Does she know? Know what effect she is having on Hermione? Is trying to unnerve her? To get under Hermione's skin?

Hermione tries to ignore the admiration for Bellatrix, the witch not ashamed of her scars. Proudly showing them to the world no sense of doubt. It's the crushing reminder that the scars are there because of the crimes committed. The actions against Neville's parents, the murder of Sirius, the thought makes her nausea.

"It doesn't matter," Bellatrix says finally snapping out of her trance. "The world believes in what it's seen."

"Don't you want to change their minds?"

"Filth, their minds were set the day I was born." Black snorts angrily buttoning her shirt. "From the moment I was delivered, the world knows my blood to bleed black like my soul. There is only one place for me in the eyes of some and that is six feet under."

"Why?"

"A story for another day."

"I do have one question, the mediwitch."

"Ah, no." Bellatrix snaps. "I'm being tolerant, do not test me."

Swallowing, Hermione settles on picking up a stone, perfect for skipping across the water. She wishes the boys were here, so they could talk, spend time skipping stones, she wishes she was a thousand miles away.

"I was reading a book," Bellatrix states out of the blue. "A muggle books."

"Right?"

"Something about Stockholm syndrome, you know of it?"

"Yes," Hermione agrees, frowning at the witch. She doesn't have Stockholm syndrome if she had her way, she would leave the witch in an instant if they weren't trapped here. "What of it?"

"I think I have it."

"You?"

"Yes, me."

"What?"

"Being here with you, I think I have Stockholm syndrome, I find myself changing in feeling towards you. A feeling that isn't disgusting?"

"What sort of feeling?"

"I find myself being influenced."

"Influenced?" Hermione replies hesitantly.

"Yes, the way you held people at wand point, I would almost be proud if you had managed to hurt them."

"That's not…"

"And that driver in France? Didn't you imperio him?"

"No… I didn't."

"Stuttering isn't very flattering. I think you're a bad influence on me." Bellatrix grins. "I feel I understand your motives, yes I think I have Stockholm."

"You're the kidnapper." Hermione snaps.

"You were the ones holding others at wand point, not me."

"You were dying."

"How do I know that wasn't you? Your messing with my head muddy."

"Stop. If anyone would have it would be me. Did you even read the book?" Hermione argues, angry.

"I see I've made you angry, I should go. Don't want you to hurt anyone."

"You're such a bitch." Hermione spits.

"And you filth are just too easy."

"I hate you," Hermione grumbles dropping her head into her arms a groan escaping her lips.

She doesn't move even as Bellatrix pats her head, gripping her knees in frustration as the witch cackles.

"Hate you too, you plucky little mudblood."

God, she hates this woman more than anything.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

Nursing her whisky, she listens to the constant chatter of the tribe around her, her fingers tapping against the table. The party in full swing, she didn't pay attention when they told her what they were celebrating. She hopes it's a wake, hopes someone died. Perhaps that Heta, little jumped up bitch could do with a lesson from reality.

The mudblood is laughing opposite her, clapping at something. Annoying fat faced twat who is telling jokes, her blood boils. Her hands shake as she clutches her drink. She hates being contained. Hates the weakness that clings to her, the way the Jakku watches her looks for any sign of injury. She is Bellatrix fucking Black, she does not have a weakness.

A cheer followed by clapping, perhaps someone did die. No such luck, just another dumb joke, she groans at the sight of stereo being wheeled in. Music, just what she needs. She downs her drink refilling it once more, closing her eyes at the racket from the stereo. Some muggle shit, she doesn't know the music, doesn't wish to.

She's only here because muddy wants to say goodbye, doesn't matter their bags are packed. Jakku promises to show them the way out tomorrow, they could probably find it themselves. Muddy could, she has a nose for this sort of thing, but Bella humours the old bitch. Mostly because she doesn't want to answer Muddy's question.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledges that pain still lingers. The cut ran deep, never the less, it might not be the wound at all. Her confidence remains shaken, how did she allow Rod to get her? Rod has never won, he still didn't, he lost the duel, but his dagger – her dagger it ran deep. Split her open like the deer she has stored away in her bag… The deer the mudblood gave to a fucking polar bear.

"You gave away my deer." She states coldly glaring at the mudblood.

"Yeah, to save your life though." Muddy shrugs, tipsy from her wine.

The filthy beast has a back bone, she's seen it a few times, tasted the anger. She really wants to see it, wants to see the filthy creature lose control. To feel the rage, her skin aches for something. Her mind aches, a reprimand. A curse, she feels tension too long she has gone without someone hurting her. Belittling her, her Lord not here to remind her of her place. Her husband not here to try to beat her into one.

Her nails dig into the table, the joy in the room it makes her twitch, the heated laughing. She misses her friends, her circle, the crude remarks. The games, the drinking, but she doesn't miss it. The thought is unbidden, forbidden to enter her mind once more. She is the dark lords most faithful.

She wants to miss it. She should miss it, yet here she remains not missing her home. Does she have a home, she lost it a very long time ago, lost a lot of things a very long time ago.

"Dance," The words snap her from her musings, the tribe has moved on to other things.

People dancing laughing and drinking, the mudblood is talking to her. Pointing to the small little dance floor where children have gathered laughing and dancing.

"What?" Bellatrix snarls, watches the mudblood recoil.

"I'm going up to dance." The mudblood replies. "Maybe you should mingle?"

"I don't dance."

"I said mingle."

"I don't mingle."

"Suit yourself."

She gulps the whiskey as the girl heads to the dance floor with her friend. Laughing as they join the kids, who jump and play. The whiskey cools her head, stops the rash thoughts, as a mother cradles a baby. As her older child tugs at her arm, a little girl. Her hand tightens on the glass, as the mother cradles the baby. As she hands her child a drink, as the girl who looks so very much like another runs back to the dance floor.

Crack.

Jolting as something wet touches her leg, she glances to her glass cracked in her hand, blood and whiskey dripping from the table. Groaning, she waves her hand, removing the drink, using her wand to reamend her glass and fix her hand. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to drink from the bottle, forgoing the glass.

"Nothing like child birth." The words make her pause mid swig. Jakku standing next to her. "People don't understand, not until they experience it themselves. Looking down at something so fragile, a child that you carried. It's daunting, terrifying that this little bundle relies solely on the mother. It's a task, some fail and some think they do. It's not for everyone, motherhood. It isn't for everyone."

"Wouldn't know," Bella slurs roughly. "Never got the chance."

Biting her tongue, she curses herself for her lose lips. Tastes blood, but refuses to acknowledge the inquisitive eyes. Tomorrow they leave for good.

"We leave tomorrow." Bella spits the blood into the fire.

"If you insist."

"We have a job to do."

"Does she know? This girl you dragged with you, does she know what she faces?"

"She does now." Bella chuckles smirking into the bottle.

"I only aided you because of what was promised."

"I know, the same way I would have cut your daughter's throat for the disrespect. But I respect the mutual ground." Bella replies meeting the old witch. "The same way killing me means destroying any chance the chit of a girl has a chance of leaving."

"She is innocence, this will destroy Hermione."

"The Moses destroy everyone. Besides I wasn't after her."

"Why did you take her?"

"She volunteered."

"I find that hard to believe."

Shrugging, Bella turns back to her drink watching the dancers, ignoring Jakku until she walks away. The chit decided to come, pushed Tonks out the way, fate chose the mudblood. Who is she to argue with fate?

She keeps her Moet et Chandon

In her pretty cabinet

"Let them eat cake", she says

Just like Marie Antoinette

Frowning, Bella listens to the laughter and watches as Hermione with a few others begin to dance to the music. Must be a muggle think she thinks to herself watching the little crowd dancing with one another spinning each other.

She's a Killer Queen

Gunpowder, gelatin

Dynamite with a laser beam

Guaranteed to blow your mind

Anytime

The singing from the girls draws the attention of others, who clap along to the dancing. I must be missing something. The way the mudbloods face is lit up, she knows this song means something to the girl.

It takes her mind back, to days that were somewhat simpler when there was no war. Summers spent in the Black manor, sisters teaching one another to dance. Looking forward to their mother's annual ball. Sneaking to the top of the stairs to watch the servants decorate the house. The shopping for dresses, the talk of the town. The letters from friends, excitement for the ball.

The excitement to see another, not her betrothed, another. Someone who stole her a long time ago, kisses hidden in the garden. Secret notes sent and promises of a different future. Sneaking around her sister, the one who knew too much. The true Slytherin who found out the truth. The only one who kept the secret.

The betrayal of a sister, the summers anger, her anger. Uncontrolled rage, not even her father could stop her, not his threats his vile tongue. Not his wand. Not even her Lord stopped her, no another. Her sister who stepped in front of her wand stopped her from causing any more damage. Her sister.

The only one she can trust.

The months that changed everything, the hidden night her Lord searching for something never noticed her absence. Her absence nor the wailing of another. Not an adult. Hidden away into the night under a black robe taken by her mother to safety. To safety. Safety. Safety.

No one knew. No one.

No one.

Her mother took the secret to her grave, her secret. Secret visits to her child, to see them growing up, a promise to never leave them. To be there for them. The night it rained in the summer, flooding roads. The night she stole a kiss to her child's head, a promise to visit again.

The betrayal.

The Death of her Lord.

Their Death.

Her death.

She died too, the biggest betrayal. It broke her, that Azkaban seemed promising, because what else was there? What else did she have other than a husband she didn't want, a lover dead and a child is hidden away? To never know its real mother. What choice did she have, the world knew her to be a monster? How easy it was to become one? To be stolen away to Azkaban.

A visit. A promise to make sure she stayed locked away for ever. The betrayal. They fixed her chains, the chains that kept her hidden that kept her away from her child. Her child who would never want their psychopathic monster of a mother. Insane mother. What choice did she have? But to return to her Lord? Her Lord that promised salvation?

Her betrayal to her Lord.

Her mistake.

She must rectify. She cannot fail him, can never fail him as everyone failed her, what choice does she have?

What choice?

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

Bang.

Jolting in her seat, Bellatrix snaps her wand to the sound of the noise, eyes focussing on the grinning Hermione. Hermione who is currently mopping up her spilt juice, flushed. Blinking, Bella glances around the room, to find most have left except for the odd ones collapsed in chairs or on the floor. Light flooding in through the window.

"Sorry," Hermione says mopping up the drink. "I tripped."

Not replying, Bellatrix frowns at the blanket draped over her shoulders. What happened? Her bottle of whiskey remains half empty, the cork long since missing.

"What?" is the confused groan from Bellatrix.

"You fell asleep with your drink," Hermione smiles taking a seat. "I brought you a blanket left you to sleep. Last time I tried to move you, you elbowed me in the face. You drank a lot last night. A lot."

"I like booze," Bellatrix grumbles, brushing the blanket off. "What time is it?"

"Early, about five am, Jakku said we should meet her in an hour. Rag is cooking us some breakfast before we go. I brought the bags down."

They eat in silence, Hermione browsing through a book as Bellatrix sips juice. A potion bottle empty, something to help for her headache. Pulling the bread apart, Hermione takes one last look at the room. The people that become a family to her, she almost wishes she could stay. However, she has another family to get back to she only hopes Heta can get the wish they need. To undo the damage caused by ancestors.

"We should go," Bellatrix states rising to her stretching the kinks from her back.

Nodding, Hermione shoulders her bag, following Bellatrix she gives Rag a quick hug on the way out. Smiles as he slips her a chocolate bar, a promise to see one another again out side the trials. In the real world. She hopes they see one another again, alive.

"Where too?" Bellatrix demands as she scouts the horizon for the leader.

"She said down by the bank, south." Hermione answers.

"Hermione." A voice calls.

Turning, she spots Heta walking towards them, dressed for the weather. Stepping away, Hermione meets the witch halfway ignoring the huff from Bellatrix who rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"You were sneaking out? Without saying goodbye?" Heta asks.

"No," Hermione chuckles. "I said goodbye last night."

"After you fell over."

"Let's not talk about that." Hermione dismisses.

Remember the moment the wine finally went too far and she tripped over her own feet. Heta helped her to the room a hug goodbye. Pocketing her hands to keep them warm, she ignores the motion from Bellatrix to get moving.

"A proper goodbye." Heta answers.

Smiling, Hermione accepts the hug, heart skipping at the reassuring squeeze. The hot breath against her neck ignores the shivers. She's just missing normal human interaction, Bellatrix as friendly as a cactus. Too close and you get pricked, any close she'll stab you.

Two surprisingly soft fingers cup her chin. Cushion like lips presses against her own, wiping her mind from any rational thought. Her body ignites despite chilly air, her hand's fumble from her pockets. Pulling away, Heta grins brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"That is a goodbye. I shall see you soon." Heta promises.

Turning, Heta walks away, heading back towards camp. Blinking, Hermione stares after the witch, she just kissed her. I just kissed a girl. A girl just kissed me. Confused, she realises she hasn't moved, flushing red she turns back to find Bellatrix smirking.

"Your drooling." Bellatrix points out.

Glaring at the witch, Hermione trudges over to the dark witch, subconsciously wiping her mouth. Glancing backwards she's aware of Heta disappearing into a tent. I just kissed a girl.

"She's gone," Bellatrix confirms. "You can stop staring."

"She kissed me."

"Oh lord," Bellatrix grumbles heading in the other direction. "It's what happens when you like someone or you want to bonk them."

"She likes me?"

The statement receives a questioning look, shaking her head, Hermione knows what she meant. Heta's a girl, why would she like Hermione? Why does the thought excite Hermione?

"Aww, I can see your inner gayness springing free."

"Gayness, I'm not… gay."

"That whole thing would suggest differently."

"She kissed me."

"And you swooned like a damsel." Bellatrix mocks. "Please, welcome to your coming out party, surprise!"

"I'm gay?"

"I don't know, have it with a guy first."

"I have."

"Ohh, you were holding out, here's me thinking you were a sweet little rose. Potter?"

"Eww no, Krum."

"The seeker hunk? Very nice. How was he?"

"big."

"I bet."

"And?"

"I… we didn't do it."

"Why?"

"I err, I well I freaked out and ran away."

Laughing, Bellatrix clutches her side trying to catch her breath.

"Oh gosh welcome to your coming out party." Bellatrix cackles.


	9. Cause & Effect

"Choices made, whether bad or good, follow you forever and affect everyone in their path one way or another."  
― J.E.B. Spredemann, An Unforgivable Secret

Dear Harry,

We're not alone, there are others trapped like us. I shouldn't feel pleased, they've been trapped for a long time, however, it is reassuring to know this is real. That the trials are real, that we are not the only people here. I suppose that sounds strange, but it has been nagging at me. How could it not?

Whole families are here, I feel responsible for them. They seem to think we represent a changing, that we are the ones who represent a new future. I hope they're not wrong. They offered us sanctuary, they saved Bellatrix's life… I saved her life. I wanted to watch her suffer, wanted to sit back and watch her die. But I didn't. I suppose I should feel relieved, I'm not evil like her, the thing is though, it was purely selfish. I need her to get out of this, she needs me.

I've done things recently, things I'm not proud of, dark magic. I threatened someone, threatened them? Me? Because I was scared, scared of dying alone. I've come to accept I might die, it doesn't scare me anymore, not now. Now I fear being trapped here alone – forever.

I don't know what I'm becoming. My thoughts, I like to say they're not my own, I know they are though. That no one is driving my actions but I and that is terrifying. I want to blame her. The monster that dragged me here, but surely it's all just cause and effect? She has caused this but I am responsible for all my actions, not her.

We will see each other again, I miss you.

Love

Hermione.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

The string tangles, pulling at her finger, trapping the circulation. Groaning, she reties the bag gifted to her by Jakku. Their supplies for the trip, Hermione objected the tribe have done enough for them, Bellatrix readily accepted. It caused a small argument, a small threat by Bellatrix and the finger from Hermione.

Groaning, she rubs her face, tired from the night before, the wine wore off. The fun and adrenaline from the kiss slowly disappearing, the cold reality that they are leaving once more. That they are once more heading back to the trials to death, to danger and she only has Bellatrix to rely on.

A hand snatches the bag from Hermione, grumbling from Bellatrix as she shrinks the bag and hides it among their other supplies. Ignoring the pointed look, Hermione is fully aware she is just trying to delay the inevitable. Jakku kind enough not to push, to tell her to hurry up. Bellatrix not so kind, the tapping of the wand against the thigh a gentle reminder Bellatrix is being rather patient.

"This is not where you belong, my child," Jakku says breaking the tension. "I would happily offer you a place amongst us, but you are still free."

"I know." Hermione nods.

"Besides she wants you gone so you can free them," Bellatrix comments with a smirk.

"That is not my meaning," Jakku replies tersely.

"No?"

"No."

Smirking, Bellatrix shoulders her bag walking away from Hermione and Jakku towards the shore line. Towards the fallen tree their exit apparently.

"Please be careful," Jakku advises resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I will."

"We all face our trials, it is important to remember who you are."

"I won't forget," Hermione replies confidently.

"I didn't mean you," Jakku answers looking towards Bellatrix who casually curses bugs as they wander by burning them with her wand. "She is damaged. Sometimes, some do not get to choose their paths and that alone is a great tragedy."

"Do you know her?" Hermione asks.

"I might," Jakku answers pulling Hermione into a hug. "In another time."

Pulling away from the hug, Hermione steps towards Bellatrix who flicks a burning beetle into the water. Frowning, Hermione turns back to Jakku who is slowly walking back towards camp.

"What happens now?" Hermione asks the retreating tribe leader.

"Now you learn," Jakku answers folding her hands together. "Learn what really matters to you, the trials are going to test you both to your very limit."

"Joyful," Bellatrix mutters resting an elbow on Hermione's shoulders. "This has been joyful but we are going. How do you open this portal?"

"It opens itself. I wish you both the best of luck. Remember only in death do we understand what it means to be alive. And only by living do we understand what it means to die."

"Cheerful," Bellatrix mutters pushing away from Hermione.

Water laps at Hermione's feet the cold startling her causing her to stumble away and into Bellatrix. The glare she receives promises pain, but her focus is on the water. The sea that seems to be rising behind them.

"Filth."

"The sea," Hermione whispers.

Turning, Bellatrix stares at the rising sea, before whirling around to Jakku who remains standing on the top of the embankment. A hand tightens around the crooked wand, rising until Hermione clutches it, preventing Bellatrix from attacking Jakku.

"She's set us up." Bellatrix hisses, eyes darkening.

"No," Hermione shakes her head. "A blackness is coming."

Confused, Bellatrix turns to Jakku who is slowly walking back to her tribe. The ground rumbles as the sky erupts with a loud bang. Clutching the bag, Bellatrix hooks it securely in her pocket, as Hermione grabs her forearm.

Eyes wide, Hermione stares in disbelief as the river above them cracks like porcelain, the sun disappearing. Darkness, a terrifying cloud it sweeps downwards from the forest. Sweeping and eating anything in it's path. It engulfs the camp, darkness swallowing everything in it's way. Jakku turns, to regard them solemnly once more, a small bow as the darkness engulfs her.

Swallowing, Hermione tries not to let panic set in, her hand clutching Bellatrix's arm. What is happening? A trickle of water makes her jump, looking upwards she realises the river is leaking above their heads.

"The tree, grab it." Bellatrix orders.

She doesn't waste a second clutching the fallen tree hoping Jakku hasn't lied to them, that this isn't their demise. Her throat runs dry, the hair on her neck stand on edge as the darkness rushes towards them. The sea rising behind them, lifting so very high into the sky as though a tsnuamai.

"Don't let go." Bellatrix orders.

There is no time to respond as Bellatrix pulls close, one firm arm going around Hermione's shoulder securing her to the strong body. She doesn't think merely reacts hands clutching at Bellatrix as the darkness rushes towards them and the wave comes crashing down.

"Deep breath."

She takes one until her lungs are full and she nearly chokes.

She doesn't let go.

Until nothing.

Nothing.

A strange feeling, drifting. Her body is moving, drifting on it's own, without conscious thought. Until the need to breath, it breaks her spell, her legs start moving. Her eyes snap open. She realises she spinning. In a circle, moving with such speed. Except she's not alone, the arm still firmly planted, holding her tight.

The light is blinding, distorting, the fast feeling of falling. She clutches at the body, her lungs bursting, begging for air.

She feels the exact moment the vortex vanishes, the exact moment they land in water. An arm pulling her upwards she bursts through the water gasping for air. Ears ringing hands flailing for purchase. She splutters choking on the taste of salt, an insistent arm pulling at her. Tugging her towards the embankment. Her clothes weighing her down forces her arms to work. Together they break the surface of the water collapsing against the sand.

Coughing and spluttering, she rolls on to her back staring upwards towards the blistering sun. Groaning, Bellatrix pushes herself upwards resting her arms on her knees. Mimicking the witch, Hermione stares around at their location. Sand. Nothing but sand.

"Right," Bellatrix coughs spitting phlegm into the sand. "We follow the sea until we reach…"

A loud gurgling noise gains their attention as the sea spits and surges against the shoreline. Tensing, Hermione wonders if they are once more going back, to be pulled back in. It doesn't happen, they stare in disbelief as they watch the sea disappear, in a blink it's gone. Leaving only sand and nothing else.

"Fuck." Bellatrix hisses rubbing her face. "FUCK!"

Wincing, Hermione watches as Bellatrix rises to her feet kicking the ground. They're in a dessert in the middle of a dessert. In the middle of nowhere with blistering heat that has already dried Hermione's clothes. Causing sweat to drip down her back she slides out of the heavy coat.

"FUCK!" Bellatrix shouts throwing a spell in frustration.

Rising to her feet, Hermione tries not to let the panic set in, dusting herself down. She stares around at the vast emptiness. There's nothing. Nothing.

"On the plus side," Hermione comments brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"What could possibly be a positive in this situation?" Bellatrix snaps.

"There's no trees."

The muscle beneath Bellatrix eye twitches as she stares at Hermione. The gaze of disbelief and annoyance mingling into something unrecognisable. The slap makes her jump. The surprise hurting more than the actual slap.

"That's for trusting those fuckers."

"This isn't their fault," Hermione argues.

"No? You don't think we could have gone with them to the next place instead of being sent to this shithole? How do you know their only way out isn't sacrificing us?"

"Well, I trust them."

"Oh, listen to the horny teen. Yes, how could the bitch who you held at knife point possibly be playing me? Think with your head in future muddy, not your hormones. Bloody cockfodder."

"Your disgusting," Hermione replies.

"I merely speak the truth don't like it should have stayed with your gypsy bitch."

"I should have left you to die."

"Yes, you should have, but here you are the weak and the dumb with the big bad death eater."

"Fuck you."

"Save that for your girlfriend."

"Least she has a purpose unlike you!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard, you know what's funny? You do have Stockholm syndrome except it's not me, it's your stupid fucking Lord."

"Watch your tongue!"

"Please, he can't even beat a teenager!" Hermione fumes. "How pathetic. Here you are you have more skill than he does but you follow him around like a scorned puppy. You ever think the only reason he keeps you by his side? Is that his scared you could beat him in a duel? Like they say keep your friends close but your enemies closer!"

In retrospect, she could have handled the situation better. Even the pain of the crucio and the scream leaving her throat doesn't help release the burden. As her nerve's endings catch fire, her body crumples to the ground, she relishes in the pain. Because she knows this is some sort of redemption for what she has done. She needs something to remind her that Bellatrix is evil.

That Hermione's crimes cannot go unnoticed, her acts have reprimands. That she should have killed Bellatrix, shouldn't she? She was right to trust those people and wrong to hold them at wand point. Wrong to imperio the muggle in Paris. Because if she was right to do all that, then everything she has learnt about the wizarding world is wrong. She cannot handle that so she plays at enemies because it's safer. Safer than thinking Bellatrix isn't the bad guy she is led to believe.

Curling in on her self she is aware the crucio doesn't last as long as she thought it would. That Bellatrix is cursing and muttering to herself. A boot kicking the sand. She clutches her knees to her chest buries her face away from the witch from the situation. Was this her way of escaping? Hoping that Bellatrix will just end her, so she doesn't have to face the trials anymore. She's discovering more about herself than she thought was possibly and it makes her balk.

She tenses as she feels Bellatrix collapse next to her backs against one another. Can feel the movement as Bellatrix pulls her knees to her chest sitting behind Hermione. Guilt it tugs away at Hermione even more, for playing on Bellatrix's insecurities. For using Bellatrix to relieve some pain and it makes Hermione feel ten times worse.

A hand presses against her collarbone, her nerve endings hypersensitive she cannot help but jump at the touch. The hand flinches, before settling more securely, resting firmly on her collarbone. It hurts, even more, to know that this is remorse. Bellatrix is showing remorse for her actions but unable to talk because that would make her vulnerable. The same way Bellatrix pretends her injuries haven't slowed her down, that they don't hurt.

It hurts more because if she admits it. It means Hermione cares, she cares for Bellatrix. She doesn't want to hurt the witch, doesn't want to fight. She was generally worried about the witch dying, that she didn't save Bellatrix because she was scared of being alone. She did it because it was Bellatrix, the quirky, extremely talented and funny witch. Her mind rages with itself, here sits the killer of her friend but the woman she saved from dying. The woman she couldn't let die and here Hermione is the failed friend who could have had revenge for so many.

The hate manifests more because she takes comfort in the warmth of Bellatrix. That she finds comfort in the witch being so close. That this whole situation is so fucked up, what would her friends think? What would the order think? That she, Hermione Granger cared for Bellatrix, would almost class her as a friend, almost. What did that make her? What did that make Bellatrix?

The hand squeezes before withdrawing, she almost goes to protest to stop Bellatrix from pulling away. Until a potion lands next to her, a way to take the edge of the pain. Bellatrix doesn't move away merely stays sitting in silence.

Is this a game? The thought that Bellatrix knows how to break people, to hurt them then offer comfort sends shock through her system. She knows Bellatrix is a master manipulator. Knows how to play people, the carrot and the stick technique. This could easily be another move to get in Hermione's head, to bring pain and offer comfort all in one. Except she doesn't believe it because Bellatrix just feels tired. Tired of all this.

They both are, tired of the trials, too tense to keep fighting one another, it exhausting. Permanently exhausting to keep going at each other's throats.

"I understand," Bellatrix says breaking the silence. "Riling me up though will not help nor is it sensible."

Is Hermione the master manipulator? Didn't she just push all of Bellatrix's buttons to have some sort of pain, to help remind herself what Bellatrix is capable of?

"This situation is fucked," Bellatrix sighs. "Royally fucked. We can't keep fighting one another."

"I know."

Nodding, Bellatrix takes a breath, it makes Hermione wonder how hard this must be for the witch. They are enemies, opposite sides, have such vastly different opinions and Bellatrix was raised to hate. To despise anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"There needs to be a truce." Bellatrix continues. "As amusing as it is to hurt you, I cannot be your punishing stick."

"Your so good at it." Hermione goes for humour because it's what they do best.

"Obviously," Bellatrix shrugs with pride. "It…"

Hermione pauses as Bellatrix trails off, wondering how the witch know what Hermione is doing? How did she know? Was it so obvious or is it because Bellatrix has been here too? Has Bellatrix used pain to mask failure, to mask emotional pain by causing physical pain, because it's easier? Physical pain can be explained and controlled.

"So, truce?" Bellatrix asks changing her original question.

"Truce."

"Good, come on. I'm baking here black doesn't go well with the sun."

Smirking, Hermione allows Bellatrix to drag her to her feet, an uneasy truce sitting between them. It feels odd, but they ignore it as Hermione gulps the potion and Bellatrix sheds her coat. A small nod they decide to head to the mountains in the distance for an advantage point and to see where they may actually be.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

Giggling, she carries her jar through the house, she caught the purple butterfly. Proudly displayed in her jar for her nan to see. Her nan who got bored of her reading took her out to the garden to explore. Personally, she would have preferred to stay in and read but she did enjoy herself. Her nana who pretended to be a monster and chase her through the garden.

Left her to her own devices as she went to answer the phone, left her to catch the butterflies. She honestly cannot wait for school to start back up as much as she loves spending time with her nana, she misses studying.

Standing in the living room she wonders how her nana has managed to tidy it all so quickly? They left the paint, colouring books and books everywhere. Now the room is spotless, she wonders at this. Placing her jar on the table wandering in search of her nana. She heads to the kitchen, pulling juice from the shelf she sips it. How does her nana always manage to vanish in the house it isn't very big and she still manages it?

The floor boards creak beneath her feet, she pauses, she swears the newspaper just moved? Shaking her head, she 's spent too long with nana listening to her silly stories of creatures, goblins and magic. Her mother always reminder Hermione not to fill her head with nonsense.

She likes the stories, but she has yet to see anything that proves it all real. Without proof, without seeing it with her own eyes how can she believe what her nana says. Her friends at school laugh at her when she mentioned creatures. They used to mock her until she stopped talking about it and kept reading her books.

Nana doesn't understand though, "just ignore it" she'll say. It doesn't work though not when they pick on her in PE, not when they call her names in the playground. Although they haven't picked on her in a while now everyone calls her a witch. Because of that weird moment, when they were bullying her and the lights burst over the head and the windows blew out. They said her eyes went black they called her witch; didn't they know it was a short circuit of the fuses. The old electricity caused the circuits to blow, the windows opened because it was windy. Her eyes dilatated cause they were thrown into the dark not because she has 'magic'.

They don't listen though, she doesn't acknowledge the little voice that reminds her fingers went fuzzy. She pushes it down with logic, there was static in the air, it would be weird for her fingers not to cause friction. Human beings are living conduits of electricity its why sharks are attracted to people in the water because they give of pulses of electricity.

Stupid.

She sneers at her glass, she hates stupid people. Hates that they hate her because she spends time researching. Why can't she just be popular, she tried watching the shows they watched but they're all pointless.

"Hermione."

Stopping, Hermione glances towards the voice, to the room that is usually locked. The door ajar, she steps closer, her nana's study. She always promised not to go in, but the door is unlocked. Nana is missing perhaps she is hurt?

Gently, she pushes the door open, confused to find the room larger than she expected. An old fireplace to the left and row upon rows of books. Old, really old books. Why did nana keep this from her? Why does nana have two separate libraries? She winces as the floorboard creaks, staring at the rows upon rows of books. How does this all fit in the small room? Why is the room bigger than the outside it's like a Tardis?

A strange powder sits next to the fireplace, she ignores it walking further into the room. Pausing when she hears muttering, leaning closer she can almost swear she can hear the books muttering. It's official she's lost it with boredom.

"Hermione…"

Following the sound, she finds a glass case, a small little glass. A small snow globe, except there's no snow. Instead, a strange swirling of smoke spins inside the glass. She stares hands itching to twist the globe upside down.

"One's journey resides in that of another…"

A hand appears closing the case making Hermione jump finding her nana standing next to her. A tired smile as the hand locks the case. Eyes glancing to the forbidden objects a strange bone, a dagger, an old locket and something hidden in a box. A ring?

"I'm sorry Nana." Hermione apologies.

"Nonsense what is the point of youth if you don't explore." Nana winks taking Hermione's hand. "Now how about I fix some supper before we watch who wants to be a millionaire?"

"Yes!"

"Good."

Smiling, Hermione lets her nana lead her from the room, frowning at the soot of her nana's trousers. Notices a spark from the fireplace? Why does her nana have soot on her? Why is the fire lit in the middle of summer? The questions roll around her mind as her nana locks the door, heading to the kitchen.

"Where were you?" Hermione asks hopping on to a seat.

"I popped out to see a friend, she said it was urgent, lost her cat the poor thing. It was right there all along. She's a teacher this friend, you might meet her one day."

"I'd like to be a teacher."

"You can do better than that, I can see you as Minister."

"like Prime Minister?"

"Y… Yes. Any Minister you're a smart girl."

"Nana that snow globe, it talked."

"Crazy isn't it? The technology these days, it's broken I'm planning to destroy it."

"Can I have it?"

"N0!" Jumping, Hermione swallows at the intensity of her nana's voice.

The wrinkled face relaxing as she pulls her hand away from the pan, she pats Hermione's arm. Rinsing her finger under the tap. Hermione relaxes as she realises her nana burnt her finger and wasn't telling her off.

"Sorry dear, Silly me burnt myself. No, it's dangerous, it leaks you see not only would your mother have a fit if you got it anywhere but it's toxic. Smelly stuff."

"Eww."

"Exactly. Now help your nana cut the peppers."

"Nana,"

"Yes dear."

"Why do you have soot on you?"

"Oh, my dear, I truly wish I could tell you but you think I was mad. Truly mad. Maybe one day."

"Okay, will that be the day you tell me about grandad?"

"Yes," Her nana sighs brushing the hair out of Hermione's face. "Yes, one day I will spill all. Problem with this family we have such expectations, my parents were demanding people. It's why I left I longed for some sort of freedom. To make my own mind up. You see, we have such potential all of us, potential to become anything we want to. We could do anything. Sometimes though when we're taught things of grandeur, we forget the important things."

"Like what?"

"What it means to have fun, to live, to love and never regret a moment. Be great my dear Hermione, be the greatest you, you can be, but don't lose who you are in the process. My dearest, you'll understand one day."

Feeding the fire, Hermione watches the wood crack, the soft snoring of Bellatrix nearby. She relieves memories why did her nana have a prophecy. Her prophecy and where did it go? What was she so scared about Hermione learning that she destroyed it? Will she ever learn the truth about her family? Most importantly, who are her grandfather and her great grandparents? If nana ran away, was she a pureblood? Did she get involved with a muggle like Mrs Tonks? She longs to know what her family tree from her father's side really was. Maybe that should be her wish, the wish for the truth about her family.


	10. Conversations in the Night

"Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime."  
― Mineko Iwasaki

The tick ticking of the clock set his nerves on edge, if he were a superstitious man, he would think it to be an omen. A countdown, a promise of their future to come. He, however, is not, superstition was not in his nature. Never the less, even he could not ignore the ever growing presence, the tension that filled the walls of the castle. Filled both walls of the respective kings abode a queen was rogue and no one knew how to deal with it.

He had watched passively the torture of the Lestrange brothers, watched one cry for mercy but the other remains quiet. Silence, anger it spoke volumes Rod wanted revenge, while his brother cried for forgiveness. He idly wondered if he cared? Did he? Care for Bellatrix's wellbeing, she had friends in the Death Eaters, she cared for her own. He wondered just what Rod would do to her when he finally got hold of her because he would get hold of her. If there was anything about Rodolphus Lestrange was his perseverance he would set his hands on his wife again.

Another question bothered him, was the Dark Lord angry because they failed to retrieve Bellatrix a task many thought pointless. Or did his anger span from fear maybe care? Rod had bragged he cut his wife open, promised if she survived from running, she would soon die. Granger was no healer unless they found help and given Bellatrix's reputation, he doubted any would willingly help. Was the witch dead? Had Bellatrix succumbed to her wounds?

It begged another question if she had died, where was Granger? She would be free from the psychotic kidnapper, could easily figure a way to request help or return home. So, where was she? They had all waited with bated breath, the order and the Death Eaters, waiting for the sighting of Granger. Waiting for the young Gryffindor to reach out, to return home. Nothing. Days turned to weeks and nothing. No word from Granger, no word from anyone that Bellatrix had fallen. Did she survive? Granger was resourceful, never the less she would never willingly save the witch, would she?

"Severus, you look troubled dear boy?" Albus spoke softly, reclined in a chair watching Severus thoughtfully. "I hope all is well?"

"As well as can be," Severus replied massaging his hand.

"Would you care to share your worries?"

"Granger."

"Ah," Albus nods reaching for his cup of tea.

"Are we sure she hasn't reached out?"

"Miss Granger has not, there has been no word."

"What does that mean?" Severus asked. "Is Bellatrix alive or are they both dead?"

"We will have to wait, until such time we hear something. I assure you dear boy I am doing everything I can to locate Miss Granger."

He doesn't worry for Granger, he should care, but the bookworm is not his concern. No, his concern rests with Bellatrix, he thought her disappearance would make his work easier. Would make everything easier but it has caused nothing but a headache.

"Draco has been tasked with something."

"To kill me?"

"You knew?"

"Tom cannot move against me himself, it would be foolish to try to. No, it is much more like him to try something under foot."

"Narcissa has asked me to assist."

"You said yes?"

"Of course, as we discussed."

"Good," Albus nods. "Never the less, it would appear the plan will have to change."

"What?" Severus demands as he clutches the chair. "The Dark Lord will kill him if he fails. Draco will die for his failure or worse."

"Draco is not my first concern," Albus answers once more igniting Severus' nerves. "Not with Bellatrix unaccounted for, no the plan has changed."

"Albus…"

"Fear not, Draco will remain safe, Tom would not willingly risk upsetting Bellatrix, not yet anyhow. I wouldn't be surprised if he changed his mind. Bellatrix has caused all plans to change."

"Who would have thought Dark Lord's crazy lieutenant could have such an effect."

"Bellatrix is not crazy, she concerns me more than Tom. The plans can only resume once we have both witches back, with out Granger, Harry will be at a loss."

Rising from his seat, Albus takes the few steps to stare down at the grounds of Hogwarts. Students have returned to the knowledge that Miss Granger has fallen into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Unknowingly, Bellatrix has unravelled years of planning. I have worked so hard to get to this point, to get Tom where we needed him and in one night it has all come undone. My dear boy, this war will not be over quickly, not now. I cannot die, not with the war coming. If only we knew what Bellatrix had planned, what she is doing can we move forward from this limbo."

"What is so important about Bellatrix?"

"She is Tom's most trusted, his weakness as well as his strength. Never the less, it is not Bellatrix that affects us, unknowingly she has taken one of our strongest pieces. Miss Granger is a valuable asset to the Order, to Harry."

"Replace her, use the Weasley girl, Ginny."

"She is not the right fit, she will distract Harry not help." Turning, Albus regards the sorting hat sitting silently in the corner. "No, Miss Granger was intended for more, or perhaps less."

"Did you fix the sorting?" Severus asks.

"Some people are best left alone. Hidden in the shadow of others greatness, as was Bellatrix to Tom Miss Granger is Harry's shadow."

"Your worried she will learn from Bellatrix."

"Neither witch should learn from the other."

"Albus, what are you trying to hide?"

"Another, I am trying to prevent another."

Confused, Severus stares at the old wizard watching the grounds, turning to look at the sorting hat. He always did wonder why Granger never went in to Ravenclaw, did Albus fix the sorting. Has he played a part in Granger's future forced her to become Potter's friend? Engineered her future without her realising.

"What of Miss Granger's parents?" Albus asks.

"Safe, the Auror's are keeping them safe. It has yet to cross the Dark Lords mind."

"Good, they must remain safe. Are there any others?"

"No, she only has parents, her nan died a few years ago."

"Very well, I shall not keep you anymore."

Understanding the dismissal, Severus turns, leaving Albus to his scheming. Frowning as he passes a smashed ring, wondering why Albus has destroyed a valuable air loom. He focuses on one thing and one thing only. He needs to find Bellatrix, end this lunacy before it continues any further. He knows just the person he needs to see the only person she would trust.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

It's everywhere, that's the only thought running through her mind as she washes in the stream. Bathing in the running water, uncaring she is only in her underwear she couldn't care less. She is parched, her skin greedily accepting the water she basks in the chill. Washing her hair for the unknown amount of time. Normally she would celebrate having a tan, would love coming back from holiday with a tan. Not today however every part of her body aches, it burns under the water. Her lips cracked and peeling, she once more dunks her head.

No number of spells have offered relief she is aware she is greedily stealing the source of the water; aware Bellatrix is just downstream. Could catch sight of a near naked Hermione, but she doesn't care. It's everywhere. The sand clings to her the sun has left a mark. Her bones ache, her muscles stretched.

She ends up sitting under the pouring water, never has she thought she would miss water in all her life. It's the sound of sloshing that makes her look up to the approaching witch who slumps down behind Hermione. Hiding in the shadow of the cove, still beneath the water but not in the light of the sun. Their backs touching, she feels Bellatrix relax against her.

How did they get here? To the point of enjoying each other's company, to needing the reassurance of having the other close. She gives up thinking, resting her head against Bellatrix's. Tiredness rolls of her, five days maybe more they were stuck in the desert. Wandering aimlessly, heading for the mountains, wasn't till the fourth day did they come across one of their markers they had left. They had gone in a circle; their water ran out and the mountains were no closer.

They argued, bickered until they realised the ground was rotating beneath them. Every time they rested at night, they would wake up back at the start walking towards the mountains. It drove them crazy, Bellatrix came up with a very simple idea. Essentially turning Hermione into a giant balloon, without the witch's consent, she tied a rope to her leg. And kicked her. Bouncing along the sand dunes, flying she could do nothing as Bellatrix sent spell after spell at her making her float faster. Until she struck against the mountain rocks, inflated, humiliated and stuck she waited for Bellatrix to catch up. Through the night Bellatrix followed the rope leading to Hermione who by that point had deflated and returned to her usual self.

If she wasn't relieved to be free from the desert, she might have hit Bellatrix. Instead, they heard a whistle of a train and followed it. Taking a risk, they jumped on to the moving carriages, as the train carried them through the next portal to their current surroundings.

Like rabid dogs they both fell to the stream, drinking until they threw up and collapsing in a heap. Never again does she want to visit a desert, doesn't want to think about it anymore.

"Cannot believe I'm going to say this," Hermione mutters throat aching. "I miss trees."

"I agree." Bellatrix sighs tiredly.

Even now she fears this is one big mirage and she is going to wake up in the sand. Too dehydrated to cry tears and slowly dying a very painful death. She intentionally knocks her leg against the rocks causing a small gash and the reassurance of pain. They are here, this is all real.

"Don't pollute the water," Bellatrix mutters noticing the trickle of red.

"Just making sure this is real not in my head."

"Often think of me naked, do you?"

She chuckles glancing at the witch behind before turning scarlet. She hadn't noticed Bellatrix was stark naked, jolting away as though burnt she tumbles head first into the stream. Breaking the surface, she considers drowning herself to escape the cackle from Bellatrix.

"Why are you naked?" Hermione groans pulling herself to the bank.

"The sand is everywhere."

"So?"

"Everywhere. Every crevice – everywhere."

Wincing, Hermione rubs her eyes that is far too much information and her mind helpfully supplies pictures. Groaning, she finds herself some clothes to wear before setting in for the night, there's a small town nearby, they have somehow managed to find themselves in a local campsite. Hidden at the end, she had turned a blind eye to Bellatrix obliviating the poor man in charge.

They had set up their sleeping bags and a fire a welcome relief from the boiling heat and the freezing cold temperatures they had just come from. It only takes a few minutes but she's asleep not even faintly aware of Bellatrix returning to their camp.

It's early morning when she stirs, the fire has died, the sky a light blue the sun only just rising. She guesses about four am, the birds are beginning to sing. Rubbing her eyes, she never even managed to get into her sleeping bag merely collapsing on top of it. Her arms ache as she shifts slivering into her bag.

The snapping of a branch startles her, she pulls her wand relaxing as she notices Bellatrix trudging back to the camp. Surprised to see Hermione awake, Bellatrix gracefully slips into her bag rolling on to her back.

"Where'd you go?" Hermione whispers.

"Alright mother, I went for a piss." Bellatrix remarks making Hermione snort. "What did you think I was doing tormenting some local muggles?"

"Am I meant to answer honestly?" Hermione quips.

"Suppose it sounds better than going toilet." Bellatrix concedes folding her arms behind her head.

"Can I ask a question?" Hermione asks reaching for her flask.

"You just did, but I'm feeling good natured. What's the question?"

"Who taught you to duel. I mean obviously you went Hogwarts, but who really taught you, was it you know who?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Bellatrix closes her eyes only the sound of the birds and distant traffic. For a while, Hermione waits, but the witch doesn't answer deflated Hermione curls up under the covers. She's not surprised getting information out is similar to getting blood from a stone. Near impossible. They had settled into some sort of routine, both witches asking personal questions during the dead of the night. When neither could look at the other and their voices are carried away by the dark. In the morning they could pretend it wasn't real that the conversations never happened.

Perhaps it's too early they can see one another it's technically morning, this will make everything too raw. Closing her eyes, she dreams of home, to waking up on Sunday morning and going shopping with her parents.

"My uncle." Bellatrix rasps half between sleep and consciousness. "Orion Black, Sirius father. My father was always busy with work, he never had the time. Orion always believed himself to be a great duellist, approved of the Dark Lord but believed himself above him. In reality, he was only ever good at charms. Three times a week he would come to visit us when my father was away with work."

Listening, Hermione swallows when she notices Bellatrix's wand spitting red can see the witch coiled with hate. With anger, she almost wants to retract her question, it's not worth the distress.

He would come in the mornings, through the fireplace in swift movement robes billowing behind him. Bringing with him dread, it dripped from his frame a promise of pain to come. They were to practice until their hands were red and raw. Until the tears streaming down the face meant nothing, in the end, she forgot to cry.

She learnt to cry meant more pain and it showed weakness. She learnt this at the young age of seven, now at the age of fourteen, she rarely showed emotion. Over the years, he got worse, revelled in the power he had, their father failed to notice, how could he? They all hid it so well, their mother who could not fight him. She had seen it first hand playing hide and seek, she hid in her parents closet. He came early that day their father abroad.

Their mother alone, she snickered as she heard the door open, heard the running feet. Cissy would never find her here, wouldn't dare find her in her parents' room. It's through horrified eyes she watched her mother wail, kick and punch him. One slap and curse were all it took for him to subdue her to push her against the bed. To hike up her dress and have his way with her own mother.

Her mother cried, soundless tears she wanted to scold her, didn't she know tears meant nothing. No one came if you cried. It's her mother's shock to find her eldest daughter watching from the closet shame, disgust it all morphed into one. They had no one to turn to, no one to look after them, their father was away, her uncle was here.

He left her slumped against the bed, crying, she slipped from her hiding place flinching as her mother's weak hand grasped her own.

"Bella," her mother whispered brokenly. "My Bella, cast this from your mind."

How could she, it was already seared in place.

"Crying won't help." Bellatrix reprimanded her mother. "I'll deal with this."

"No Bella, no."

She left her mother crumpled on the floor, too weak to fight back. She would never become her mother, would never let anyone hurt her family. She would rather die.

They practised in the afternoon, in the play room as he called it. Cissy is new to the training she had heard from her sisters though what to expect. To be polite to answer nicely, to always do as he said. Other wise she would be cursed, she would get the poker to the hand, a slap to the face. A kick to the gut. She wouldn't be able to hold her wand for days if she failed.

He was teaching Andy when the poker smacked against her hand making her yelp and cry. Tears once more they ran down her sister's face, as she held her throbbing hand to her chest.

"Aww get over it you spoilt little brat." He sniped smacking her at the back of the head. "This is why witches shouldn't fight. You cannot deal with the emotion. Weak, the lot of you. Narcissa front and centre."

Shakily, Cissy stepped forward, her wand shaking in her grip, her face gave nothing away. Bella's little ice queen. She smiled to herself, Cissy would go far, she already knew the value of tears. Her defence was poor, her attacks poorer. Her foot work wrong, but he didn't remedy her mistakes he slapped her. Drawing blood from her lip, but nothing else. Her sister did not cry, not for the likes of him, never for the likes of anyone below her.

"Listen here princess, or you'll end up like your mother."

Her stomach rolled as the hand gently ran down Cissy's face there was no mistaking her similarity to their mother. Almost a younger version if it weren't for the ice Cissy had in her veins. The idea of him ever laying a finger on her sister spurned the demon in her. Her hand shook uncontrollably. The wand, her new wand it reacted to her touch much better than her old one. The one she broke fighting with Andy, this wand it almost wanted to fight.

The straight of the wand nothing like her old one where the end had bent. Rubbish, she paid Olivander a visit, he promised her something to withhold her magic. Walnut, her father wasn't sure, but Olivander promised it would be the only one that would work.

"Now for some unforgivable work, Princess let's start with you. Andy why don't you practice."

She watched as Andy cast a weak unforgivable, not wanting to hurt her little sister. Another curse made Andy crumple in a heap crying as she crawled away leaving only Cissy and herself.

"Bellatrix, you little whore," He snapped grabbing her elbow. "Prove your worthy of the Black name."

Cissy finally showed fear as Bella lifted her wand, a small shake of the head. Bella smiled. She turned on Orion her wand pointed at her uncle. Her uncle left scars on her abdomen, that left her sisters and her mother crying. Who terrorised them, that left her crying alone at night before she realised no one was coming? No one was going to save her.

"Not me, you stupid bitch," He sneers. "Her."

"Why?" Bella asks calmly cocking her head to the side. "You're the weakest here, what use are you?"

"You filthy little…"

She deflected his curse, anger it vibrated in every muscle of her body she reacts. Crucio leaving her lips, the shock as he crumpled screaming, begging. She never stopped. Her anger grew at the tears, she sneered, she felt the house shake. The shouting of her sisters, the shouting. She feels something snap, but it's not enough. Never enough, not for the pain he has caused. She wants him to feel every little thing he has done.

It's the hand that pulls her away, snapping her from the trance, pulled into the strong arms of her father. His face is furious as he looks at his shaking daughters and his brother crying on the ground. He had urinated himself.

"What have you done?" Her father snaps her, thinking her responsible for all the pain. "They are your sisters…"

"He raped mother." She answered emotionless, eyes only for the crawling man. "He hit my sisters. Step aside father there is no need for filth such as him."

Turning, her father regards the poor excuse for a man on the floor. Releasing Bella, he pulls his own wand from his pocket.

"Girls leave," He orders.

Her sisters are quick to leave rushing from the room into their mothers waiting arms, Bella remains. Eyes only for the pathetic man.

"I'll send you to Azkaban," Orion spits at Bellatrix. "You little bitch, I will have them strip you from your wand you psychotic bitch."

"No, you won't." Her father promises. "I will ruin everything you have a brother. Bella leave us."

She remains until his cool dark eyes turn to regard her, she always admired her father. But now she wonders is he strong enough to teach his brother a lesson or does she have to finish it.

"Bella," He replies fondly pressing a kiss to her forehead. "you have done enough, let me finish this. Go see your sisters."

Nodding, she withdraws pausing by the door to regard her uncle, coldly she smiles.

"Hide if I were you uncle," She says sweetly. "Because next time I see you, I won't stop our play time. I will never stop."

She stalks from the room closing the door behind her, wondering what her father will do. A hand brushes through her hair, her mother's worried eyes regarding her sadly.

"It is done." She answers simply, she fancies a bath before finishing her homework.

"Your wand," Her mother answers stepping back. "It's bent."

Twisted, Bella thinks regarding her wand that was once so straight now bent in the middle. It held.

"I'm going to take a bath," She announces pocketing her wand. "I'm meeting titch later I don't want to smell."

"My uncle taught us he wasn't very good though. In the end, my father and I would end up training my sisters. Then my Lord taught me more."

"Was your uncle a good teacher?" Hermione wondered.

"Yes," Bellatrix answers rolling on her side to regard Hermione. "But he ran out his usefulness."

Almost recoiling at the pitch-black eyes, Hermione wonders what she missed. Bellatrix definitely wasn't telling her something, however, Hermione doesn't want to know what it could be.

"He preferred the stick over the carrot, it grew tiresome. In the end, I had to teach him a lesson ever since then he hid away never did come back to play."

Shivering, Hermione doesn't think she would like to play either. Not with the way Bellatrix twiddles with her wand. He abused them, her mind helpfully adds. Until she taught him a lesson, Sirius always did comment on the security of Grimmuald place. She wonders if Sirius knew why his father was hiding, or just assumed him to be paranoid.

Wisely she chose not to ask any more questions, choosing instead to feign sleep. The soft snoring of Bellatrix allowed her the means to relax and study the witch. What did Orion do to Bellatrix? Do to the Black sisters, did he abuse Sirius or was it just the girls. Shivering she choses not to dwell on it, choosing instead to get some more sleep before morning.

It's mild by the time they follow the hiking path Hermione enjoying their stroll the conversation was forgotten. Bellatrix in some high spirits, perhaps grateful to be away from the desert. Perhaps she did sneak off somewhere last night, she decides not to dwell. Choosing instead to ideally wander behind the witch, plucking a flower on passing. She admires the flower ignoring the snort from Bellatrix as she places it in her hair.

Grateful to not have anyone trying to kill them or to be stuck in a desert. She doesn't react quick enough she walks straight into Bellatrix's bony shoulder. Rubbing her nose, she almost drops her wand on retrieving it. Pointing it at the man casually leaning against a boulder as he munches happily on an apple.

"Bellatrix, Mudblood." He greets them with a wild smile.

Heart sinking, Hermione glances behind spotting another stepping on to the path behind them. Bellatrix regards the other man before turning back to the one blocking their way.

"Dolohov, you brought a friend?"

"For you Bella, how could I not?"

Staring, Hermione wonders if Dolohov survived the fall does that mean Nour survived or was the witch dead. Hand tightening on her wand she notices the man behind removing his hood. Her heart drops and she cannot help the gasp that leaves her lips.


	11. Phantoms

"The only true test of loyalty is fidelity in the face of ruin and despair."

– Eric Felten

Dear Harry,

I feel so foolish, what was I thinking of trusting her? I mean I saved her, saved her and she goes and does this. What was she thinking? I really hate her, and at the same time I just…

I miss you guys, where we are it's crazy. The things I'm seeing, I'm doing they're both terrifying and both so exciting. I want to come home, but would you think me mad if I a also wanted to stay? Her magic, her skill, I miss Sirius but I'm not surprised he lost against her. I don't know, I'm building up to asking why she killed him… I need to know.

Don't forget to study and do your homework, I know I'm not there to help, but Ginny is good at Potions. Also, try not to do anything too foolish while I'm away. Please stay safe they are not weak the Death Eaters. Not the ones we met at the Ministry, don't underestimate them, please. Please stay safe he's up to something.

With all my love.

Hermione.

Anger it pulses, so violently she resists the urge to be sick, tries not to crush the biscuit in hand. Still, her body vibrates with barely restrained anger directed at her companion. She was so foolish; how could Bellatrix do this? Let her continue to think that… She hates her.

She wants to rage, to smash the fucking teapot against the wall to scream bloody murder. Not sit and have a tea party, pretending everything is fine. Her leg judders on its own her outbursts paused for the moment shock taking priority. It's building though as Bellatrix plays fucking tea host the whole situation surreal, she wants to flip the table. Curse all the Death Eaters and run, just run.

Antonin Dolohov, the one who tried to kill her to tried to attack her and let Greyback chase her down is Bellatrix's freaking secret keeper. Still dumbstruck from the moment they embraced like long lost siblings hugging fondly as though they were not convicted criminals. Watched astonished as they clutched hands, pressing foreheads together. Lovers? Bellatrix said there was a Death Eater was it him? Why is she angrier about this? Is she jealous?

"Stop that." The monotone voice, she did not miss it.

Her potions professor is here sipping from a little tea cup casting a withering glance at Hermione. A bloody Death Eater she knew he was but to see him in their ranks. Why was he even here, why isn't he trying to rescue her? Why is no one even paying her the slightest bit of attention? Instead, they sit listening to Dolohov and Bellatrix whisper in their little coded language, Snape content to wait for them to finish.

Settled around a bloody muggle picnic table eating biscuits and drinking tea. Muggles walking by casting strange glances at the two men dressed in black robes.

"What is happening?" Does Hermione finally snap glancing at the whispering friends? Lovers? She doesn't know nor care. "What the fuck is happening?"

"Language." Snape scolds making her flush.

"You already know." Bellatrix dismisses.

"Nour's alive?" Hermione continues staring at Dolohov.

"Yes," Dolohov replies patronisingly. She knows, knows she has asked this question four times already, but it still hasn't connected. "As I've said it was all planned."

"You tried to kill me," Hermione repeats.

"I thought you escaped Bella, better safe than sorry. Nour tackled me as a way to make it look like you escaped. She explained what was happening."

"And Greyback?"

"Shush muddy let the adults talk." Bellatrix interrupts her.

"No, you let me think Nour was dead, dead. You didn't think to inform me otherwise?"

"It didn't seem important." Bellatrix shrugs.

"You're such a cunt." Hermione hisses pushing from the table.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix leaves Hermione to pace angrily in the background turning back to the stunned men.

"She's has awful language," Bellatrix replies with a cackle.

"I hate you," Hermione mutters snatching up the newspaper Snape brought she retreats to the base of a tree.

"The Dark lord fears you might have succumbed to your injuries," Dolohov says after a minute. "I'm glad to see his fears are not factual."

"Please as though my pathetic husband could kill me. I thought you would have known better." She scolds.

"I had my concerns, I've only seen him like this once before. Rod is not handling this very well, not even the Dark Lord is handling this."

"You have caused a headache." Snape pipes in. "To both sides. For what may I ask?"

"None of your business Snivelles." Bellatrix sneers.

"This is different from your psychotic breaks; your actions have unforeseen consequences. But you never did care for them, did you?" Snape snarls.

"This is all in aid of my Lord." Bellatrix answers. "Which side are you more concerned about Snivelles, surely you want me out the way. I was getting a bit close to your loyalties."

"Listen here harpy, Granger is needed back, she will come with me…"

"No." Bellatrix voice is cold, stern as the temperature drops around them. "She stays."

"She will not."

"I stay." Hermione pipes up flicking through the newspaper.

"Miss Granger…" Snape sighs.

"No choice, Professor. We cannot leave." Returning to the front page she fishes in her bag for her quill hoping to fill in the crosswords. Her picture stares back at her, she pushes the remorse aside she has no choice.

"What have you done?" Snape demands from Bellatrix.

"We cannot leave. Not until we complete what we came here to do. Then you can have the mudblood back."

"When she's lost her sanity?"

Bang, the dagger slams into the table cutting through Snape's robes inches from his wrist. From cutting his veins, black eyes staring Snape down.

"You bloody harpy." Snape sneers. "You never have thought about anyone but yourself. Did you have any consideration for those fighting this war, it could have all be done with in a few years. Now, who knows."

"Boohoo." Bellatrix drawls withdrawing her dagger. "Why did you bring him?"

"He asked to see you." Dolohov shrugs, eyeing the dagger. "Besides thought, it would look less suspicious if he were with me when I tell the Dark Lord we know your whereabouts."

"Your telling him?" Hermione asks surprised.

"To keep in favour of him, of course. You will be gone though by the time he arrives."

"Is that wise?" Hermione asks approaching the table.

"It'll be fine. With Rod going crazy, I need Antonin close to him, warnings for any future attacks. My sister."

"Is fine, he has only asked questions she remains… stoic. She knows nothing and if anything appears angrier at you. Your nephew, however, has been given a task." Dolohov replies trailing of.

"What task?" Bellatrix asks eyes darting between the two men.

"It's will be difficult, I am…"

"To Kill Dumbledore." Snape interrupts Dolohov.

Inhaling, Hermione stares at the two men as Bellatrix fails to give anything away. They plan to kill Dumbledore, Snape plans to let this happen. Why isn't he stopping Draco? Why is no one reacting?

"He must succeed, Antonin, you must help him in any way you can. I suppose Cissy has already sorted your help Snivelles?"

"Yes, I have promised to aid Draco in his mission."

"What?" Hermione demands as she stares at her potions Professor. "Are you mad? This is Dumbledore, it's Draco for Merlin's shake. A kid."

"It is the dark Lords request," Dolohov replies.

"Fuck him." Hermione snaps. "Let him do it himself? Why is he sending a child to kill Dumbledore, who either knows this is going to happen and will allow it. Or will squish him with a flick of his wrist either option is not ideal."

A hand presses against her arm, panting, Hermione stares at Bellatrix who merely shakes her head. Their conversation from ages ago, they are nothing but pawns in a game of chess replaying in her mind.

"He's a child, I mean he's a prick, but his still a kid," Hermione whispers hoping to get sense into Bellatrix.

"The Dark Lord will do worse to him should he fail," Bellatrix replies releasing Hermione's arm. "Should that happen, Antonin, you know what to do."

"Of course. No one will find your sister or your nephew."

"You're okay with this?" Hermione asks Snape.

"My hands are tied," Snape answers solemnly. "The question still remains, Miss Granger cannot stay, Bellatrix see reason."

"no choice here, she stays," Bellatrix answers rising to her feet. "Our time has run out."

"How is Harry?" Hermione asks Snape.

"Worried," Snape replies looking at Hermione for the first time.

Nodding, Hermione turns her attention back to the paper on the table, as Snape wanders to the side allowing Bellatrix and Antonin time to speak. They hug once more, foreheads pressing to one another.

"Stay safe," Antonin orders.

"You too, do nothing to enrage him."

"Wait," Hermione stops Antonin from joining Snape.

"What?"

"Can he be trusted?" Hermione asks Bellatrix, who merely nods ignoring the scoff from Antonin. "Can you do something for me, please."

"Filth…" Antonin sneers pausing at Bellatrix request. "What?"

"My parents are they safe?"

"The Dark Lord has yet to explore that avenue, never the less I am aware they are monitored by the Aurors."

"Can you, can you do something for me."

"I am not an owl." Antonin sneers.

"What is it?" Bellatrix asks studying Hermione.

"I was going to do it myself, I know there was an only a small amount of time before the war truly affected us. Can you wipe their memories, so they don't recall who I am, send them to Australia?"

"Why?"

"Safety," Hermione answers ignoring the guilt. "Please, I can pay you or whatever."

"No need," Bellatrix says. "If you do this there is no coming back."

"I was going to do it anyway," Hermione replies forcing the lump in her throat down.

"Why not ask Snape?" Antonin demands.

"I don't trust him."

"Very well, but they are well guarded it will be difficult."

"Thursdays, every Thursday they go to the local café at ten am. It's a tradition they'll be there might think I'll turn up they'll be easy targets. They always have a booth at the back no one would notice you. It's called the Snug bug, it sells books too."

"very well, Bella?" Antonin asks.

"Do it," Bellatrix nods clasping his hand. "On me."

"Be careful, I don't know how long until he will arrive. Snape will tell him shortly. Snape will want Miss Granger returned. You know he does not trust your word."

"Act fast then."

With a nod, he leaves heading to Snape as both men clutch the portal, a sense of foreboding settling over Hermione. She is doing the right thing to keep her parents safe. To keep them out of harm's way, this way at least she doesn't have to do the spell.

"Brave," Bellatrix comments patting Hermione's shoulder.

"Will he go through with it."

"Yes, Antonin is one of the few I trust with my life."

"Why?"

"It's a very long story, come we must leave. Snape will spill to the Dark Lord of our whereabouts."

Offering her arm, Hermione hesitates before taking it, feeling the sensation apparition the tug in the gut. A different feel this time though, guilt has settled in her stomach even as her feet touch more solid ground, she knows her future is set. Her parents will forever forget her, to never know they had a daughter.

For once she is grateful that Bellatrix is not engaging in small talk, is not teasing. Leaving Hermione to her thoughts as they wander a path towards a town. Forcing herself to focus, she pushes the thought of her parents aside she planned this a long time ago. She knew the risks of being Harry's friend, this way her parents will remain safe.

It takes her a minute to realise they are still in the same place only moving closer to the wizarding town. Feels a spell run along her skin, a charm firmly in place. Why are they still here? Shouldn't they be leaving heading to the portal?

"What are we doing?" Hermione asks, glancing backwards. "you said we needed to leave?"

"We do."

"Then why are we here?"

"Only an idiot would stay."

"You'll bluff."

"Essentially… yes."

"Won't he know you would do this?" Hermione wonders, Voldemort will surely know how his lieutenant thinks?

"There are several options for me to consider. Never the less, he thinks us to be running, not pursuing a challenge. He will think us to be gone, perhaps leaving a trail to mislead him. He would not think I would waste my time in such a town. Not without causing some scene."

"This is a risk," Hermione warns not as confident as Bellatrix. "Why are we here?"

"There's someone I need to see."

Frowning, Hermione trails after the dark witch, glancing into windows as they pass. Perhaps if they have the time they can stop for some food, real food. Maybe even have time for a bath and a proper bed. Was this all a level? Were they being tested? Temptation? Her head buzzes with the trap they could be walking into.

Except Bellatrix doesn't seem bothered, not a hesitant step, nor a worrying thought making her frown. They draw no attention and blend amongst the crowd as though they shopped here every day. As though they weren't two of the most famous people in the world as though the newspaper on sale didn't have her face plastered on the front cover.

They pass a bookshop her fingers twitch desperate to divert off, noticing the book keeper in the window. She focuses on Bellatrix once more, who is heading to the gloomy building in the distance. Along the cobbled street, under the burnt-out candles from the night before. The dried wax that cracks under their feet and past the decorative windows that entice.

The hand resting on the door to the gloomy building, Bellatrix goes to enter, her other hand pressing against Hermione's chest. Making her stumble to a stop, wondering why they're stopping.

"Where are you going?" Bellatrix asks.

"With you," Hermione answers confused glancing to the writing above the door.

"Ha, no you're not. They don't let your, err kind in." Bellatrix replies giving Hermione a short shove. "Stay, or shop I'll be back soon."

"What? We can't split up."

"Filth, you cannot enter. Do you want to cause a scene?"

"No, but…"

"But nothing. You enter the whole street will know your blood," Pulling her wand from her sleeve, Bellatrix draws it across her palm slicing it open. "I'll be back shortly."

Pocketing her wand, Bellatrix fishes in her other pocket drawing a small purse, dropping it into Hermione's confused hand.

"Splash out or don't be back in an hour. Don't wander off." Bellatrix warns. "Need me, send me a patronus."

The door slams in Hermione's face leaving her standing out in the street, coin purse weighing her hand down. Blinking, she considers barging in after Bellatrix, but choses not to make a scene. Groaning, she pockets the money, maybe she could get something to eat would it appear weird just to have room to use a bath?

The clinking of a bottle makes her turn, the blur of movement as a figure darts down a side street. Craning her neck to see, Hermione tries to spot the person. The sense of being followed weighing heavily on her shoulders. Following her instinct, she shuffles through the crowds. From the kids shopping to the adults leaving work, she blends in easily. Heading back the way they came, she pauses at the narrow alley.

Throwing a look over her shoulder she considers waiting for Bellatrix? No, she was abandoned like a dog tied to a post outside a shop. Annoyed, she ignores the warning in her mind not to go down the alleyway. It could be anyone, it could be nothing, she could get lost.

Curiosity wins, slipping into the narrow passage, she clutches her wand under her coat. Edging carefully down the cobbled path, along with the chipped brick work and the smell of rubbish waiting to be entered from a restaurant. A rat scurries across the passage, darting into a grate leading to a sewer.

This is foolish, what or who is she even chasing? She berates herself for her foolishness. All the times she told the boys off for being so reckless and here she is chasing a phantom. Scoffing, she turns back to the street, why is she chasing shadows. She knows how dangerous they are, knows that this is not the place to wander. Still anger it crawls through her veins, prodding and poking. What point will she prove to Bellatrix by getting herself killed? The witch would just replace her with another and that is not something Hermione can allow. If any one is to remain trapped in this hell it will be her, she cannot let another fall into trouble.

Hands in pockets she sighs, she'll visit the bookshop before getting some food. It'll do no good to continue wandering the streets hoping to pass the time. Bellatrix has probably gone to a bar, searching for liquor and a way to ignore Hermione for an hour. Perhaps they both could do with a break from one another after being trapped in the desert, with nothing but one another. It drove both of them slightly mad, or madder at least.

Something cold presses against her lips, startling her it covers her mouth. Stopping the yell leaving her lips, her hand's fumble from the pockets only to be trapped by a large arm that crosses her chest. The arm prevents her from fighting, she feels her body being lifted. She tries to scream to bite the hand, but it's no use.

Heart hammering, she feels herself being carried backwards through a hidden door. The sunlight vanishing, she tries to adjust to the gloom of the room. Struggling in the arms of her assailant, she hopes this is Bellatrix playing with her. Yet the arm holding her is much larger, stronger and belongs to a man.

Her feet touch the ground, she stumbles free from the person. She pulls her wand pointing it at her assailant, squinting in the darkness. Trying to see, eyes slowly adjusting she's aware the man is calm. His arm slowly raising towards something she tracks him slowly walking backwards until her back hits a cupboard. Flinching at the contact, she tries not to panic, trapped in a corner with a stranger.

"Who are you?" She demands, surprised at how steady her voice is. "What do you want?"

The hand flicks a light switch illuminating the room, making her blink and glance around. Confusion replaces fear, she's in the bookshop more precisely the back of the book shop. A large bearded man, staring at her, both hands raised.

"Please, I mean you no trouble." He answers his voice gravelly and so quiet. "Miss Granger…"

"How do you know me?"

"I do not," He replies beard twitching with a smile. "I know your name from the papers. It is Bellatrix I know. I needed to speak with you, I did not know how to gain your attention I apologise for scaring you. However, if Bellatrix knew, knew I was here, well I do not think it would be pretty."

"Why?" Hermione asks confused, how did he know who they were after all no one paid them any attention. "How did you know?"

"It's my job, please, may I?" He points to the pile of newspapers.

Nodding, Hermione lowers her wand as he crosses the room shuffling through the papers on the desk. Searching in a mad frenzy for something, wand still in hand, Hermione glances to the door. Unsure how to proceed, she should leave she knows this. This man is highly unstable, she should walk out, head to Bellatrix. Her gut, however, says to remain, that he won't hurt her.

"I am sorry, I didn't wish to frighten you. I saw you both, I know everyone here I watch them come and go for their work. When I saw you both I thought she looked familiar? That I recognised her walk, I mean you never forget meeting Bellatrix Lestrange. I met her though a long time ago, probably not long after you were born. Then I saw her draw her wand, that crooked wand I knew instantly it was her."

"I'm not following," Hermione replies jumping as he places newspapers on a table. "If you want to meet Bellatrix…"

"No, no." He replies firmly, the creases around his eyes relaxing as he turns to Hermione. "I'm sorry I'm not making much sense am I. My name is Thorn Bags, I used to work for the Daily prophet. My last published story was in the autumn of 1981."

"The year he fell," Hermione replies, the year Voldemort fell against Harry.

"Yes," He nods sliding papers across the table. "I was the Head journalist; my name could cause businesses to panic and politicians to resign. I was fearless, my stories knew no bounds. I reported throughout the war, sometimes I was there in the middle of it. The whole of Britain knew of me, I was at my prime."

"So, what happened?"

"The trial of the century." He answers sadly.

Stepping closer, Hermione stares at the front pages, the creased papers decades old but still tell their story. Pictures of the Lestrange brothers in chains, the picture of Bellatrix being led in chains to the dock to face trial. The discovery of the Longbottom's, the hunt for the culprits and the pictures of Voldemort's best plastered across the papers.

"Trial by society," He mutters dropping the last paper on the table. "I covered it all, it's all any one was speaking off at the time. But no one was reporting. The day He fell, the day everything changed. Except everyone seemed to have forgotten it didn't end when Voldemort fell to Harry Potter. While the order was quick to put the boy in hiding the fighting still continued."

"Continued?" Hermione frowns at this everyone knows the fighting stopped when Voldemort fell.

"Yes, some rallied they stayed loyal. The fighting continued. A different one, a different tactic. Even rumour to be a fight between the Death Eater leaders and Dumbledore. If the rumours are true then the leader won."

"Who became the leader? Bellatrix."

"She took reign, she pulled the ranks. There were attacks on muggles, however, there were more political attacks, the order was struck while stretched. Rumours believed they were close to winning. Then this, the awful attacks on the Longbottom's, the public outcry, the Death Eaters scattered."

"They were winning the battles but lost the war."

"Essentially yes."

"Okay, so you reported Bellatrix trial is that why you don't want her to see you? Bad memories?"

"No, not at all. I reported on the trial, I went through every piece of evidence and I spoke to the arresting Aurors who took the Lestrange brothers in. Who interviewed Barty Crouch Jr and the ones who interviewed Bellatrix? The trial was a fix, it was all through the papers who had done the crime. The atrocities, no one asked looked any further. I tried to publish a story, I handed it to my editor, the next day I get a warning. Threats made to me; my flat is burgled and a week late after the trial I lose my job. Disgraced."

"The Death Eaters were trying to keep you quiet?" Hermione guesses not looking at the screaming face of Bellatrix.

"Do you know originally when arrested, Bellatrix pleaded innocent of the crime. Said she had an alibi," Thorn continues staring at the front pages lost in history. "I brought you here because I needed to know, I need to know that everything I bet my career on isn't a lost cause."

"I don't know how I can help. I'm sorry you lost your career, however, Bellatrix upset a lot of people with the crime. At the end of the day, a lot would say they were innocent of the crime."

"Do you know who she used as an alibi?" He questions turning to regard Hermione with his dull green eyes.

"No," Hermione shrugs.

"Her sister."

"Well, I'm not surprised they are close…"

"Andromeda Tonks."

Mouth open, Hermione loses her thought process. A knowing smile shows on Thorn's face, a small nod of the head that moves the mad mass of hair. Bellatrix Lestrange, the notorious Death Eater and loyal supporter used her disgraced sister as an alibi?

"I was fired because I claimed Bellatrix Lestrange was innocent of the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom and I have proof."


	12. History of Mistakes

We hide our demons so good, that the angels we show, bare the shame on their faces.

Anthony Liccione

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Proof? The word feels foreign to her, the history she knows the hate towards Bellatrix for her past crimes still rages. Neville is her friend, what Bellatrix did was unforgivable, even now. To claim she was innocent, she wants to scoff at Thorn. Everyone knows who committed the crime everyone it was all through the papers…

Staring into her butterbeer, Hermione feels guilt niggle at her, isn't she just like everyone else? Trial by society isn't that what Thorn said. Is it possible that the whole world was lied too? It is possible, she knows this she met Rita who could twist the truth to make her readers intrigued. No one cares for the truth, they care only for a story.

She waits with bated breath ready for her world to be turned upside down, for Thorns to prove Bellatrix innocence. The other half waits eagerly to prove him wrong to roll her eyes and leave the gloomy bookshop. She's not sure which half to be upset with the most, the hopeful half or the one willing to prove Bellatrix guilty.

Nursing her butterbeer she glances to the biscuits that have seen better days. Thorn not used to the company has barely any essentials in, but this doesn't worry her. Her focus is only on the pile of newspapers and scribbles he is currently searching through.

"You said you had proof?" Hermione says eventually glancing to the clock, she cannot waste too long here. Bellatrix will come looking for her, and she doesn't want to be here when Bellatrix realises what is happening.

"Yes and no." He comments offhand.

The thumping in her head starts once more, she's been lied to she should just leave. This is obviously a desperate man looking for a reason for losing everything. Maybe, there is no proof, maybe Bellatrix did it and he is hoping to start another story to gain his way back to the top. It would be a story and a half if it were true, never the less, without solid proof no one would believe him.

"Why are you so keen to prove her innocence?" Hermione asks.

"It's not about her not so much. It's always been my job to investigate big stories, I interviewed everyone that week. I wanted the truth, however, it appeared no one else did. You know at first, I believed what I was told. It was the culprits, it wasn't until I interviewed the neighbour of the Longbottom's, did I start to believe differently. It was something they said and to this day it has stuck with me. I cannot explain why call it intuition."

Placing the papers on the table he brushes the hair out of his eyes turning to Hermione. His eyes alight, it strikes her still. The chase of the story has brought life back to him his once dull eyes cracking with energy. Reclining she chooses to listen, she does, after all, rely on evidence and if there is any then she will listen.

"An unassuming lady worked for the ministry as a lackey, nothing incredible about her. Heard the commotion, came out to investigate. She was late home from work, something she regretted. She had hoped if she finished on time she could have called for help and the Longbottom's would have survived the attack. She remembers coming home, hearing the baby wailing next door she stepped out her back door. Into the pouring rain, mud sticking to her heels as she went to the edge of her property, she saw them. Four leaving the house three men, she knew who they were had met Barty Crouch Jr a couple of times at the Ministry. Saw the Lestrange brothers had dealt with a few of their cases and she saw her. Bellatrix. The men ran apparating away and Bellatrix looked the witness dead in the eye. There was no mistaking who she was."

"That just proves Bellatrix was there?" Hermione replies confused.

"That's what I thought. Except what the witness said, it struck me odd. She said and I quote. 'She stared at me, just stared. Before leaving. It's almost as though she wanted to be seen, wanted to be acknowledged.'"

Sucking in a breath, Hermione sinks into her chair. How could anyone want to be acknowledged for such a crime to allow a witness to tell Aurors? Did Bellatrix have no remorse?

"She knew Bellatrix, had met her through the courts. Bellatrix had gone to court a few years before giving evidence to save a fellow Death Eater from the kiss. You never forget meeting Bellatrix and yet the witness stated. It was as if Bellatrix was there but wasn't."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asks.

"I don't know the witness died in an accident a week later before I had a chance to talk to her."

"An accident?"

"A freak accident she died in Diagon Alley a cauldron exploded a few were injured but she was the closest. I never got to ask her what she meant. Confused I turned to the next source I asked the Aurors. Surprised to find Bellatrix had claimed she was at Andromeda Tonks house the night of the attack. She left in the morning. When questioned, Mrs Tonks denied this explaining she had not seen her sisters in years. They even asked the little girl who produced a small picture of her mother and her playing airplanes. They had made paper airplanes from the papers which had the date, it showed Mrs Tonks playing with her daughter."

"So, Bellatrix lied?"

"It would appear so when asked why Bellatrix would insinuate, she was with Mrs Tonks. Mrs Tonks replied that it was just another ploy by Bellatrix. That it was a cruel taunt from her sister. Bellatrix later retracted her statement."

"Pled guilty."

"No, she never pled guilty she only stated that their master would come for them," Thorn replies pulling a letter form the pile of paper. "After searching I found that Alice Longbottom was seeing someone, an old flame had died. She had some letters that insinuated there was once an affair when I asked her mother. I was very much thrown from the family home she is a very scary woman. You probably think I'm mad chasing this story, I mean it drove me here the arse end of the world. I lost everything my family thought me mad and disowned me. Perhaps I am, but something was wrong about that trial. I let it go until I received this letter and then Bellatrix had kidnapped you. The world thought it was history repeating itself, you would be the next victim. Except, here you are alive sanity still intact. Tell me what is your first thought on Bellatrix?"

"There's a lot of thoughts."

"Crazy?"

"No, sometimes but only in the heat of battle."

"Passionate?"

"Yes, she's funny, crazy smart but she's not…"

"A monster?" He smirks at Hermione.

"I was going to say a demon."

"We all have demons, Miss Granger, some just cannot control their own, others have a mutual understanding. But we all have our demons." Drawing the letter close he passes it to Hermione with some hesitancy. "I'm dying, I was estimated to live only for a few more months. It's terminal I had always hoped that I would get the answers before I died."

Accepting the letter, Hermione slowly unravels the scroll, feeling sorry for the man who can be no older than fifty. To be disowned, driven from his family and friends in to hiding. Was it possible for someone to be impersonating Bellatrix? Was it possible for the whole trial to be a lie? But for what gain? To make sure Bellatrix was locked away? That the last Death Eaters were rounded up?

Dear Thorn,

I ridiculed you, I laughed in your face when you visited. No one believed me when I said I was innocent, so why should I believe you when you told me you thought her to be innocent.

Looking back now I realise a lot of people lost their lives at the end of the first war. More causalities than we acknowledge. I was young, foolish and hurting, for that I am sorry. I realise now you came to me because you needed to understand. What she capable of doing the crime? Yes, she was, Bellatrix is capable of anything. Would she do the crime? Once upon a time I would have said yes. Now I say no.

Bellatrix was not there the night of the attack on the Longbottom's for this I have proof. I need to know if you are still looking into this? Do you still believe her to be capable of the murder? Do you still believe her to be innocent? I do. Bellatrix was not responsible. Reply to this letter and I will send you proof, it will be too dangerous for me to break the news.

Sincerely,

Padfoot.

She drops the letter, stomach churning, she recognised the hand writing but tried to ignore it. The signature could not be ignored. Sirius, sent the letter, Sirius had proof Bellatrix was innocent?

"He never replied, I assumed he changed his mind."

"He died," Hermione answers sadly. "Sirius died during the battle of the Ministry."

"Damn, he never got my letter never sent me the proof. How did he die? I bet they shut him up…"

"Bellatrix," Hermione replies. "Bellatrix killed him."

Rising to her feet, she sees she has wasted her time here. Bellatrix may be innocent during the attack of the Longbottom's but she killed Sirius so he wouldn't prove it. So Bellatrix wouldn't lose face with her Lord.

"It might not be what it seems."

"I was there," Hermione replies harshly. "He was my friend, I saw what happened."

"He had proof though, we must find it…"

"No. If he had proof, Bellatrix killed him to keep him quiet. I have to go, she'll be looking for me. I'm sorry, if Bellatrix is innocent or not it still doesn't excuse previous crimes."

"You spend so much time with her," he says sadly regarding Hermione with pity. "Yet, still you believe what was written. You should look with your eyes Miss Granger and not with your mind."

"Goodbye, Mr Thorn I wish you well."

She allows the door to shut on its own, heading from the bookshop. Her mind whirling, she spots a small café slipping inside she orders some food and takes a seat by the far window. Staring out at the passing people she wonders is it possible. Is it possible Bellatrix is innocent? She killed Sirius, there was nothing innocent about that.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Clicking her neck, her hand plucks the drink from its coaster, her eyes regarding her plucky little mudblood. Her brooding mudblood who is more interested in the passing people than to ask Bella where she's been. Maybe it's the tell tale smell of firewhiskey that gave her a way, or maybe the mudblood just didn't like being left alone.

Still, the tea does a good job of removing the taste of firewhiskey, not enjoying the taste so early in the morning. A necessary evil to accept the choice of drink from the patron of the house refusing would be a dishonour. It's enough though to gain some information and to restock supplies. An old contact, a trusted contact someone who could get all the supplies needed without raising the suspicion of the Aurors.

Turning attention back to the mudblood, Bella studies the half eaten sandwich. The thoughtful look and wonders what has caused such a reaction in the young witch? What did she miss during her meeting?

"So?" Bella finally breaks the silence stabbing her fork into her carrot cake. "Why the long face?"

A shrug in response, the action triggers a nerve, annoyance poking at Bella, how dare the witch ignore her? Shaking of the frustration, if the mudblood wants to play hard to get she can.

"What did you do?"

"Went to the bookshop."

Pursing her lips, Bella takes a deep breath leaning back in her chair, she catches the sympathising glance of a mother. A mother with their own moody teenager who currently has their hood up and reading. Managing a fake smile, Bella wonders how the person would feel if they knew she was a kidnapper and the mudblood was part of the famous trio. That she was a notorious murderer and torturer who was receiving sympathy from a mother.

"What?" Bella finally snaps dropping her fork with a clang, insulted to be considered the mother of the mudblood. Does she look that old? Oh wait, she has a disguise on, yes that is it. "What's with the long face?"

"I'm not in the mood," Granger replies not even acknowledging Bellatrix.

"Tough shit, I am. You look like someone's kicked your puppy. So, spill what's going on in your small little mind muddy?"

"you." Granger snaps.

"Ohh, why's that?"

"It doesn't matter, it'll only end in an argument."

"I'm feeling particularly happy to day so try me."

She doesn't feel happy at all if anything she feels antsy, why did Dolohov bring Snape? He knows the Professor cannot keep a secret and no one knows which way his loyalties lie. She has more important things to worry about that dealing with a moody teenager.

"Fine," Granger snaps turning to regard Bellatrix. "Don't say I didn't warn you. I was doing some reading…"

"Funny that's what happens in a book store." Bella quips.

"On the Longbottom's."

The smile falls from her face, all emotion draining from her body, she regards the mudblood coldly. This is all very foolish for the mudblood to approach this conversation especially so public. Doesn't she know the witnesses won't prevent Bella from doing anything it hasn't before and it won't now?

"Tread carefully," Bella warns voice like steel she notices the mudblood swallow. Good, she should be scared. "Tread very carefully."

"What happened?"

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid," Bella hisses as her anger rises.

"Were you there that night?" Hermione questions ignoring the warning. "I read a report where you weren't there that you plead innocent of the crime."

"It's wrong."

"You said you were with your sister Mrs Tonks."

"Don't utter that name. Let me explain muddy, the history is history unless you want a re-enactment, I suggest you stop this."

"I don't think you were there…"

"Muddy." Bella grinds out.

"I think you were innocent, but now your lord is back you cannot claim innocence. Is that why you killed Sirius?"

The question throws Bella, what does Sirius have to do with the Longbottom's? Wasn't the death explained? They've had this conversation she killed Sirius because they are on opposite sides, granted her cousin was slow to fight her but they all knew the risks.

"Because he had proof? Proof that you weren't there that night of the Longbottom's attack."

"What proof?" Bellatrix demands confused. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about? The Longbottom's everyone knows what happened, Sirius died in a duel. That's it."

"He had proof you weren't involved."

"Then he would have blackmailed me or sent it to my Lord. You think during that fight I had enough time to focus on only one person?"

"Your lying." Granger snaps red faced.

"Filth, what the hell is wrong with you? I know you saved me and all but trying to make me into a good person is not going to happen."

"This isn't what I'm doing," Hermione replies exasperatedly. "I want the truth."

"The truth is, war is dangerous and we are all nothing but replaceable."

The table jolts as Granger pushes to her feet shoving the table away. The drinks slosh on to the wood. Furious, Granger stares at Bella chest heaving, she half expects the mudblood to continue. Except all eyes are now on them and the mudblood falls quiet. Sulking away, she pushes past the table and out through the door of the café.

Blinking, she barely waves her hand organising the table once more she watches the mudblood storm off up the road. What did she miss? Groaning, she rubs her eyes, was she this moody when she was a teenager. She startles as a waitress places another tea on the table a small smile.

"On the house, we've all been there love." She says sympathetically.

Dumbstruck, Bella watches the waitress retreat rolling her eyes she slouches in her chair. She'll let the mudblood calm down before they go any further. It won't do well to have the witch storming around.

"It's snowing!" A young child squeaks.

Turning, Bella watches the heavy snow fall, quickly lining the streets, she wonders if the mudblood will die of hyperthermia just to spite Bella.

She sits for a few hours catching sight of the mudblood pacing in the distance with a coat on. The snow slowing, Bella flicks through the latest newspaper wondering if the witch has calmed down yet.

A low pitched howl pierces the afternoon, her heart slows the soft murmuring of those in the café. That isn't a wolf. Rising to her feet, she hears the soft crying the rushing of feet as she spots it. Mosmorder. Heart hammering, she rushes from the café, she needs to find the mudblood. Find her before Greyback does. The Dark Lord is here.

She stumbles through the snow, eyes darting up and down the road, struggling to locate the mudblood in the mass of people panicking. A couple barge past her running for the safety of their homes.

Don't they know no where will be safe unless she finds the mudblood and runs? Calming herself, she focuses her attention on the distance the last place she saw Granger pacing. Pushing through the snow, she ignores the chill as the snow soaks through her shoes. Disregards the thumping in her head, the fear causing adrenaline to course through her veins.

"Bella." The voice causes ice to settle over her, her body going numb.

Turning, she finds her Lord standing behind her, seeming so out of place in the small little street of shops. The crunching of footsteps behind her, she knows her husband is pacing like a wild animal wanting to get his hands on her. Even through the mask, she recognises Dolohov, the slightest twitch of the head.

She was foolish to remain, should have never of trusted Snape to keep quiet. The slimy git would have told her Lord the moment they returned anything to get his hands-on Potters mudblood.

Her knees hit the snow, she bows her head before her Lord, swallowing her anger at Snape. She must not show it; other wise her Lord will notice, will think her to be angry with him. His feet glide across the snow not allowing it to slow his advance.

"My Lord." She whispers the words, her voice usually so strong feels flimsy.

Flimsy, she is not flimsy, nothing about her is soft yet she feels… vulnerable. Meek before her Lord who regards her with his with his snake like eyes. She is not weak, something burns beneath her skin, something else. The throbbing in her head the apprehension for Granger is palpable, Greyback will want revenge.

She conveys her concern in one simple look to Dolohov, a well practiced look. Knowingly he accepts the silent order, the brother she always wanted but never had. The one piece of her fucked up life she can rely on. She saved him from the Dementors all those years ago, and he saved her from her demons. Her brother, her secret keeper and her confidant.

He vanishes a quick murmur to their Lord, helping in searching for the mudblood. Helping Bella keep an eye on Granger. A cold hand, void of emotion it curls under her chin, squeezing as it tugs her face upwards to gaze upon her Lord. It strikes her the very first thought as she gazes at her Lord that he is not the wizard he used to be.

"My Bella," He murmurs, regarding her emotionlessly his voice empty. She still hears the softness he uses only for her, but it rings hollow in her chest.

"My Lord," Her voice is firm once more. "I can explain."

"I hope you can," He replies releasing her chin.

"This is all for you My Lord, everything I am doing is for your gain."

"Yet, I didn't order it."

She recoils slightly, heart pounding she counts his back up. Eyes scanning for escape, checking for anything she missed. Everything she does is for her Lord; her whole life is dedicated to assisting the Lord. Her family's money is the most influential in his army, without the Black's support the Dark Lord would not have as many supplies.

"My Lord, please let me explain." Am I begging? The question bounds around her head unbidden, she disregards it.

The sound of shouting in the distance is a momentary distraction, the sound of fighting. The sky lighting up with spells, her heart drops they found Granger. She has seen the witch duel, she's good but she won't survive against Death Eaters on her own.

"Your concerned about the Mudblood?" The Dark Lord scoffs, she hears the snickering of the others. Of her husband can feel the distaste in the air. "Don't fear Bella I will keep your pet alive, in fact, Greyback has staked claim I believe. Wouldn't it be just something returning her to Potter as a werewolf? She could do the job for me."

The thought makes her sick, no one is touching her mudblood, not even her Lord. The girl belongs to Bella and Bella alone. She would cut Greyback's balls off before he damaged the girl's skin.

"Scared Bella?" He goads her, his wand hanging dangerously from his fingertips.

"Everything I do is for you."

"So you keep saying." His angry now, his lips curling with annoyance. "You disappoint me, Bella."

The words cut deep, she bows her head. She never wanted to disappoint him, not her Lord. The only wizard ever to respect her, to respect her skill and the only one she craved to impress. How could she tell the Dark Lord without them all knowing what she was doing?

The choice to come clean vanishes as an ungodly sound fills the air. The sky ripped apart with a green light, she rises to her feet so fast the Dark Lord steps back. Turning to look to the sound in the distance heart sinking. Fear, unlike anything she has ever felt, takes control. Her wand is in her hand, her husband is smirking and anger takes control.

"Looks like the mudblood is dead." Rod taunts, falling quiet at the tsk from her Lord.

The killing curse still lingers in the air, it has torn the tense atmosphere apart. Rod shrinks when he spots the anger in her body, can feel the moment all wands turn to her, her Lords as well.

"Bella," Her Lord tries to gain her attention.

"I'm sorry." She replies.

Her spell strikes the ground wiping the feet from under them all, causing the Death Eaters to crash to the ground. Her lord is first to rise, but she is already spinning. Disappearing in a blur of blackness, she moves through the sky with such speed her ears pop.

She lands in a flurry, eyes falling to the form in the snow. Time seems to be stuck, her throat constricted. She stares at the figure in the snow blood it coats the body and the snow. She moves, arriving on her knees next to Granger, staring at the mess in front of her. Blood it spurts, too much blood.

Her hand covers the wound, the sticky hot liquid seeping through her fingers. It makes her stomach churn, staring at the deathly pale face, she stares at the young witch. Granger who appears to be a fallen angel ripped from the sky. Her neck and collarbone ripped apart, can see the broken bones, the vein. The blood seeping into the snow, coating her hands.

The wand still held limply she follows the blackened ground, towards the other body fallen in the snow. The unmoving form of Greyback, in his werewolf form dead. She glances to the tip of Grangers wand that is blackened from the unforgivable curse.

Her hearing comes back to the sound of arguing, to Dolohov shouting, and Death Eaters rushing towards them. The Dark lord arriving before her, taking in the destruction. She feels a fool for believing the Dark Lord would keep the mudblood alive, angry at Snape for the betrayal.

"Bella."

"Everything I have ever done is for you," Bella states coldly staring at her Lord unflinching. "I have never nor will I ever betray you, I made you an oath. You let me down, Tom."

Anger it morphs with a tinge of sadness and if she is not mistaken fear. She clutches the limp body close to her, ignoring the call of her Dark Lord. She apparates them away, away from the Death Eaters, the dead and her Lord. They land with a thud, on wooden flooring, the blood is slowing and Granger is feeling increasingly cold in her arms.

She finds a couple staring at them in shock, wands held aloft.

"Help me." Bellatrix orders, aware her disguise has fallen away. They hesitate. "Now."

"We know someone, Frank get the portal. Here use this on her neck, my aunt is a mediwitch we will go to her."

She allows the young woman to apply pressure with a towel to the wound. Hears the crashing in the living room as the other looks for the portal. Turning back to Granger it's the haunting eyes staring back at her that captures her attention. The terrified look, the lips that try to open but only manages to cough blood.

"I… don't want to die." Granger splutters, lips pale, tears painting her cheeks. "please."

"Shush, your going to be okay," The stranger promises Granger, as Bella struggles for words.

"Please," Granger begs again.

The hand clutching Bella's arm falls away, falling limp, the eyes become unseeing. She releases the body, as the stranger pushes her aside starting compressions on Granger's chest. Bella stares back at the unmoving body of Granger, those eyes stuck in fear. She's dead.


	13. Fear Itself

"Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Everything feels heavy as she stirs. Waking is strange as it is difficult. Memories become fleeting, she tries to grab them, to remember how she ended up here. Except it becomes painful, her mind thumps worst than a migraine she stops thinking. Merely allowing her senses to come back to her.

Agonising pain, it laces her whole body, makes it especially painful to breath. To even consider breathing. Voices gain her attention, but the words are nothing but mumbles so she drifts. Through unconsciousness waiting for something to be made clear. Pain comes and goes, she's aware someone is feeding her potions.

Something, however, is different. Her body feels different, not herself. She cannot put her finger on it, the pain becomes constant making her mind fuzzy and the movement impossible. An eye lid opens, forcing unnatural light into her iris, blurry she tries to make sense of everything.

The action is tiring she drifts back asleep once more, listening to the voices. The pain relenting to a dull ache. The memories are quick to come back, her fight with Bellatrix she stormed off, why did she storm off? Greyback.

The name causes panic, she groans allowed, her throat dry, a hand pressing against her arm. She tries to escape the memory, Greyback's fangs tearing into her skin. The pain, the agonising pain as he ripped through her as though she were paper. She killed him. Reacted on instinct, her stomach rolls at the thought, she feels sick.

Oh, she is sick.

She coughs on her own vomit until hands roll her to her side, she pukes. Magic clears her airways she pukes everything she has lost in her memories, tears stinging her eyes. She killed someone. Something dabs at her mouth, cleaning her, too weak to understand she gives up.

Coldness seeps in, she feels trapped beneath a heavy blanket, her body fights itself. Rolling between pain and numbness, her eyes struggle to adjust and she wonders if she is permanently blind. Her hearing is the first to return, she hears the slightest movement. Everything hypersensitive. It's not till the next night does her eyes finally adjust, tiredness playing on her though.

Bellatrix. It is a reassuring sight to see the Dark witch in the night pacing by the fire. She feared she may have been left behind, forgotten in the search of the trials. He bit me while turned. Fear is crippling, it makes her nausea once more, hands rolling her again. Except she has nothing to throw up, she merely gags.

He bit her while turned. AM I a… a werewolf. She wails that night with tears, from the physical pain and the mental thought she might be a werewolf. She finds comfort in the arms of someone who rocks her to sleep, shushing her through the pain. The warmth of arms that enclose her, the whispering comforting words in her ear.

She comes around, taking in the small medical wing, she wonders where they are. How did they get here? Squinting she makes out the shape of Bellatrix speaking to a mediwitch. Straining to hear, Hermione closes her eyes listening to the hushed voices.

"It's a waste." The stranger replies footsteps moving closer to Hermione's bed.

"Do it."

"She's been bitten," Swallowing, Hermione squeezes her eyes shut hoping to block out the thought. "It is a waste of my supplies to save her. She'll only become a monster."

"I won't say it again." Bellatrix voice like ice adds to the tension. "Give her the medication."

"Her body is accepting the Lycanthrope cells, soon there will be nothing we can do. Her body is slowly adapting, her senses are changing, she will have to learn it all over again. Why put this girl through this, now is the best time to put her out of misery before it's too late. Before there is no going back."

"Last chance."

A mutter leaves the mediwitch a hand carefully cradles her head, a potion to the lips she feels the liquid slide down her throat. A blanket is drawn up to her neck, the muttering of the mediwitch.

"She's already killed, what do you think will happen when she turns, she will kill. Kill anyone, think on that."

Heels click as the mediwitch leaves the room Hermione feels the first tear fall. She's a werewolf she won't be able to control her actions. A hand combs through her hair, another rests on her uninjured neck. Feels the soft press of the forehead, Bellatrix leaning against her the hand comforting.

Her mind goes back to Dolohov when Bellatrix pressed her forehead against her his. Feels a strange warmth spread through her body, a comfort taking hold that stops as Bellatrix pulls away. Leaving her cold and alone with only her demons for company.

"Steady." Is the only word that leaves Bellatrix's lips the next day as she finally wakes from her deep sleep.

The daunting realisation that she is a monster, that she has the ability to become something she fears. Sitting up in her bed, she regards the mediwitch who tends to her wounds, as Bellatrix paces in the background. No one speaks as the healer works, and Hermione wonders if Bellatrix did what Hermione failed to do. Hold someone to ransom in order for help it would explain why Bellatrix has her wand drawn. Another horrible thought springs to mind, maybe the wand is for her. To stop Hermione if she turns.

The look of disgust that she receives from the mediwitch is scathing, it makes her shrink. Conscious of the wound, of the meaning. What would the boys say? Would Hogwarts let her return? Lupin can barely keep a job because of his condition. Her chances of becoming Minister shrink, the chances of becoming anything shrink.

She has nothing, already a mudblood now cursed what hope does she have? When the world finds out, she will be outcasted forgotten about. When the healer leaves the coldness returns as Bellatrix paces by the fire.

"How long was I out?" Hermione asks Bellatrix.

"Two weeks," Bellatrix answers not looking at Hermione as she prods the fire.

"Greyback?"

"Dead."

A hollowness springs in her chest as she watches Bellatrix who doesn't acknowledge her. Sitting alone on the bed she feels lonelier than ever. Her parents gone, her chances to have a normal life diminished. What hope does she have?

It hurts more than she thought it would, Bellatrix not looking at her and the dismissive looks from the healer. No one wants her here.

"Where are we?" Hermione asks on one occasion as she readjusts to walking, Bellatrix browsing through a book.

"Top of the mountain, not far from the town, they had a lot of snow. With the clinic closed the aurors didn't think to look up here." Acknowledging her progress in walking, Bellatrix looks at her with such disinterest she recoils from the cold looks. "Should be able to head out soon."

"Sure," Hermione whispers sinking on to her bed.

"Your making good progress."

"Thanks,"

Nodding, Bellatrix returns to her book, nestled next to the fire, she ignores Hermione who sinks further into her blanket. A coldness settles despite the fire, she curls up on herself.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Arm slipping from the chair, she startles awake squinting into the dark room, Bella sighs removing the kinks from her back. She fell asleep reading; a strange chill fills the room despite the roaring fire. Rubbing her eyes, she spots the open door frowning, the door usually shut when Francesca retires to her wing for the night.

Rising to her feet she stretches finishing of her butterbeer with one gulp she winces at the taste. Glancing around the room, she checks on Granger's bed - empty. Good, she moves to her own pausing. Empty? Turning she stares at the empty bed, the chilly air and the open door.

Turning, she swings the door wide open, rushing into the corridor. The sound of her heals muffled against the carpet as she follows it along to the entrance, hoping Francesca hasn't bumped the mudblood off while Bella slept. Dread fills her stomach at the sign of the open front door the soft snow flakes drifting in. Another fire crackles by the sofas, the knowing look of Francesca who merely watches Bella with a smirk.

"Where is she?" Bella demands furiously for letting her guard down.

"She went for a walk," Francesca shrugs making notes. "Poor thing wasn't wearing much, but then again I don't think she's planning to come back."

"What did you do?" Bella fumes hand twisting along her wand.

"Nothing, I didn't stop her from leaving. Hopefully, the girl knows what's best for everyone."

Shaking, her head Bella conjures her robe swinging it over her shoulders she braces the cold. A wind blows the snow around, she follows the footsteps away from the clinic.

"Muddy!" She shouts over the wind.

Tracking the foot prints, dread grows as she realises the footprints aren't leading to the village, they're leading to the mountain edge. Bella knows where the girl has gone, she herself likes to gaze down the sharp drop to watch the lights switch off in the mornings. A pretty sight when the sun rises in the morning. Granger, however, is not thinking straight and Bella knows the girl isn't there to take in the views.

Picking up her pace, she stares around searching for her mudblood, promising she is going to curse the little bitch when she gets her hands on her. Feet sinking in the snow she curses herself failing to see any sign of Granger.

"Muddy!" Bella shouts, spotting tracks as they disappear on the rocks.

Climbing on to the rocks edge she navigates the sharp edges, spotting a form standing on the edge staring down. Stepping closer, she studies the witch wearing only a gown despite the freezing temperatures. The vacant look, she has seen it before she steps closer to the witch.

"Muddy, what are you doing?" Bella asks cheerfully.

No answer, the gaze firmly fixed on the sharp drop. Licking her lips, Bella glances back to the safety of the clinic. She is not meant for this, words of encouragement, words of sympathy do not come naturally to her.

"Granger, your going to catch a chill." She tries for concern.

"I don't care." A broken whisper seeming so loud despite the wind. "I'm a monster."

"Nonsense, we can fix your hair, just a bit of bed head."

The joke falls flat, the feet far too close to the edge for comfort. Wand twitching, she wonders if she can pull the witch away from the edge with magic. If she gets it wrong, Granger will jump and no amount of magic will put her back together.

Tongue sweeping her lips, she edges a tiny bit forward, stopping as Granger flinches, hollow eyes turning to Bella. The sight is heart breaking the girl no woman she's a woman seems so lost. A horrible scar lacing her collarbone, a reminder of the tainted blood.

"Come on," Bella says indicating for Granger to come away from the ledge. "Lets head back."

"How can I?" The voice breaks, hands trembling. "What I am, what I've become. The world will hate me, I'm already an outcast for being muggleborn… A werewolf as well?"

"I thought you were all for making a difference?" Bella replies.

"What's the point, nothing ever changes."

Swallowing, Bella is very much aware she is running low on time. She wishes Cissy was here, her sister much better at this than her, always better at understanding others. Another part wants to let the witch jump, let her be foolish, but she fights against the thought.

"If I turn, I will hurt people, I'll be responsible for people dying or turning. I can't, I cannot have that on my conscious. I've already killed Greyback…"

Now she understands, Granger is scared not for herself but harming another. Not wanting to harm her friends or family, she cannot imagine the fear the witch is feeling. Bella herself would hate to turn, to become such a filthy creature is beneath her. The thought is daunting here stands a girl who fears only hurting others. Fears becoming the monster of legend not selfish like Bella, no Granger only cares for those close to her.

She's sure though somewhere deep down, Granger is terrified of her future. Dependant on her education, on becoming something meaningful in the world. Bella has been there before, she wanted to make a change, she never imagined the world would change her. Now here stands Granger destiny has marked her, morphed her future into something tainted. A future that holds little in the way of hope,l family or career.

"He killed you," Bella reveals earning a shocked look. "You died bled to death, Francesca's, niece managed to revive you. I understand your scared, but Greyback deserved it. If you didn't kill him I would have."

"It doesn't make it right. I cannot return home being a risk to my friends."

A foot lifts, moving that step closer. A deep breath as Granger closes eyes preparing herself to let go, to fall to her death. Heart pounding, Bella steals a deep breath the cold air cutting into her lungs. Just a few feet closer she will be able to grab her. To pull her away from the ledge, she still needs Granger, cannot complete the trials alone. Her madness will take over, the whispering in her mind that seem so dormant will return. She will never leave, trapped in a hell worse than Azkaban.

"Hermione." The name falls easily from her lips as dazed eyes turn to her. "Don't do this, I know, know you don't think there's a way out of this, but it can. This can be fixed."

"There's no cure." A cry escapes pale lips.

"No, but we can make this all go away. All of it. You can wish it all away."

Wide eyes turn to Bella, survival kicking in logic taking control. Bella is right of course if they make it to the end they will both have a chance of a wish. Granger can fix this, can take away the curse and return to her friends who be none the wiser. A slow nod from Granger and Bella releases the breath she's been holding. Offering her hand, she wills Granger to accept it to come away from the ledge.

"I can wish it away," Granger whispers as hope flashes in brown eyes.

"Yes, no one would need to know. No one has to get hurt, we can manage this with potions."

Stumbling back from the edge, Granger regards the mountains edge as though seeing it for the first time. Turning to the outstretched hand, Bella dares not take it away. Not wanting to remove the only connection keeping Granger from jumping.

"Promise one thing, if I turn and hurt anyone you end me," Granger says.

"Wouldn't miss the chance," Bella promises with a wink.

"I mean it, Bellatrix," Granger replies hesitantly as she takes the hand. "Please don't let me hurt anyone."

"I promise I will end your life should you turn and kill," Bella promises.

Satisfied, Granger approaches from the rocks unaware of the crossed fingers behind Bella's back. She cannot promise Granger she'll end her, not for something she has no control off. A cold hand slips into hers and she pulls Granger down from the rocks.

Weak legs hop on to the soft snow, regarding the witch, the vacant stare Bella knows they are far from okay. This is a start though, to stop Granger from doing something foolish. One wish they will change everything. With one swift movement, she removes her cloak and covers Granger in it, pulling the witch close to her chest.

Limp Granger rests her head on Bella's chest listening to the steady heartbeat blanketed from reality by a cloak. Resting her head on top of Granger's, Bella resists the urge to curse the stupid witch. The view no longer looks pretty or inviting, it feels stained by the night. They need to leave she needs to get Granger away from Francesca, away from the whispering words of hate.

Allowing the moment, she holds the blanket in place, a heating charm leaving her lips. Warming Granger through, she needs her alive. That's what this is all about, she needs Granger there is no other reason for wanting to save the witch.

Aware Granger is barely standing, Bella sweeps the young witch into her arms, the girl as light as anything. She carries her back across the snow, Granger burrowed deep in the cloak hidden from reality. It's just as well, Bella thinks, let this become a bad dream a forgotten memory.

Pushing the door open, Bella lowers Granger to her feet, feels the flinch as Francesca huffs at the entrance. Disappointment rolling of the mediwitch for allowing Granger to live for not making a sacrifice.

"Go change," Bella orders Granger eyes focussed on the mediwitch. "We're moving out."

Meekly, Granger nods shifting with numb feet along the carpeted floor towards the room. One single lingering look, concern even at this stage for the mediwitch. Despite the hatred shown towards Granger, the young witch still cares for the Mediwitch. Shooing the witch along, Bella turns to Francesca who rises from her seat hand resting on her hip.

It's the telltale click of the bedroom that let's Bella know Granger is far away.

"So? Should have let the bitch jump." Francesca hisses. "She will only infect and kill."

"Crucio."

The spell bounds with uncontrolled rage striking the witch squarely on the chest. She crumples mouth open in shock a scream never leaving their careful bubble. Only Bella will hear these screams, will remember these screams with a smile.

"You broke your oath," Bella hisses grasping the dirty blonde hair as the witch writhers in agony. "You heal, you swore to heal without prejudice. You're the dirt on my shoe. I'm going to take your supplies, I want you to remember this lesson."

Stepping over the squirming body, she pulls a bag, looking at the potions lining the shelves. Collecting the few she needs, wolfsbane she takes most of including the instructions on how to brew a potion. She also helps herself the ingredients, regarding the squirming body. With a flick, she releases the spell the witch gasping for breath.

"Bitch." Francesca spits coughing. "She will rip you to shreds. The moon is due tomorrow, you won't be able to stop it."

"No, I might just bring her here." Bella threatens.

A yelp leaves the healers witch as Bella drags her to her feet by her hair. Throwing the mediwitch back on to the chair she regards her coolly. She wants to do so much more, the mediwitch deserves it.

"Burn in hell." Francesca curses.

A stupefy smacks the healer on the forehead jerking the witch back in the chair. Knocking the healer out, resisting the urge to do worse, Bella waits by the door. Waits for Granger to join her, who does, finally dressed although not as sturdy on her feet.

"She okay?" Granger asks looking at the mediwitch suspiciously.

"Too much excitement. Shall we?"

Hesitant, Granger pauses before accepting the offered arm, studying the healer with worry. The hand curls around her elbow, brown eyes staring inquisitively at Bella who merely shrugs into the apparition.

They land in the middle of a road, at the base of the mountain, where the road has been cleared from snow. A little muggle village not far from the wizarding one. A car sits in the driveway of a house, leading the way, Bella knocks on a random house.

Cautious, Granger follows whispering not to hurt the muggles. A man answers confused by the women and the wand pointing at his face. Imperio. Sitting on the sofa, Granger watches as Bella instructs the family of four to leave, taking their pet dog with them. Leaning against the door frame as the sun peaks above the trees, Bella watches the car pull out the driveway. The family feeling the urge to leave and go away for a few days.

Satisfied the family have gone, she starts casting charms, preparing the house for the first night of Granger's turmoil. Satisfied at the gleaming charms, Bella closes the door helping herself to the milk in the fridge she digs in her bag for the next items.

"Will the charms hold me?" Granger asks from the sofa knees pulled to her chest.

"I don't expect you to change," Bella replies hands closing around the items she's after. "In the off chance you do, the charms are the second defence. These are the first."

They rattle as she pulls them from the bag, her biceps flexing at the movement, eyes widening, Granger stares in shock. Shifting the furniture, Bella reinforces the wall with magic before lifting the first link. She locks it into place, whispering ancient incarnations holding the item in place. The second link is placed further along followed by the third and fourth being secured at the base of the wall.

"Your chaining me up?" Granger whispers staring at the chains in dread.

"Yes," Bella replies admiring the chains.

"Won't I just break out of them."

"No," Bella whispers running her hands along the chains. "They're specially made, nothing gets out of these."

"Specially made for what?" Hermione asks.

"Made from Dragon bone, forged in the hottest pits by ancient spells, these chains will never break. Will never grow old or rust. Neither will they allow one to slip free, the more you struggle the heavier they become the tighter they grow until you can no longer move." Bella whispers almost cooing at the chains. "They were made for me."

"Why? Who were you going to use them on?"

"No, pet, they were made to contain me. To withstand my magic, my father paid Goblins to craft them. They're invaluable a wonder on their own."

Smiling, Bella pulls away from the chains and the memories she notices the gulp from Granger. She supposes the history is dark, but some demons are better restrained. Reaching once more into her bag she retrieves a potion.

"Come on," Bella murmurs placing the potion aside they need something to eat. Pausing in the kitchen she stares at the strange objects. "Do you know how to operate these."

Chuckling, Granger nods sliding from the sofa she proceeds to operate the muggle contraptions as Bella sits on the counters. Granger informs her of stories cooking with her nan, eyes alive with memories.

"I always wondered how she managed to cook so much, makes so much sense now. I always wondered why she never told me about being a witch."

Listening, Bella wonders too why Granger's nan kept being a witch secret. Was she hiding? Maybe when this is all over she will investigate Granger's family. Search the records at the Ministry for the truth of Granger's nan.

The food is acceptable, the chains a reminder of the evening that seems to be rushing towards them. Finally accepting the idea, Granger takes a deep breath standing next to the chains. Nervously running her fingers along her wrists, she surrenders her wand.

Lifting the chains, Bella secures them to the ankles first the loud click echoing in the house. It feels odd, almost wrong to secure Granger down, she leaves the hands free for the time. Allowing Granger to grow comfortable with the weight of the chains.

"They're so lightweight," Granger comments shifting her ankles.

"They're not active yet," Bella replies reaching for the potion. "This will be nasty."

She knows this she took wolfsbane by accident when drunk, hoping to find another potion. Violently sick the next day she had to listen to Cissy lecture about the dangers of potions. Uncorking the potion, Granger hesitates as winces at the smell. A faint shade of teal floats into the air, Bella frowns at the sight, a smell of strong berry makes Bella turn.

"Doesn't smell that bad," Granger comments.

Alarm bells sound in Bella's head, as Granger swigs at the potion, hand swiping through the air she smacks the potion from Granger's hands. It smashes against the blush carpet the small amount of liquid left hisses as it dissolves. Mouth open, Granger raises her hands in silent question.

"What was that for?" Granger demands.

"P…"

The word dies on her lips as Granger gags, clutching her stomach she turns pale. A yell leaves her lips as she collapses to her knees. Whimpering she clutches her belly in agony, eyes screwed shut. Poison. She vomits as her lunch comes back up as she falls to her side whimpering.

Turning Bella summons her bag searching through the stolen ingredients as Granger begins to convulse on the floor. Eyes rolling back, phlegm appearing at her mouth, sweat breaks out as she struggles to catch her breath.

Her hand closes around the item, atropine. She thanks her old potions professor for the knowledge quick to slide next to Granger. She gives the antidote pushing it into the open mouth. Using water to wash it down and her wand to stop Granger from chocking to death.

The convulsing slows as she wipes away the phlegm and removes the sickness. Granger, however, doesn't wake, doesn't stir from her collapse. She tries to revive the witch with her wand but is unsuccessful. Checking the pulse she finds it weak but beating none the less. Relieved, she clicks the two chains into place.

Stepping back she checks the wards one last time as she apparates away, with the furious speed she appears outside the mediwitches house. She blows the door down, furious for being tricked. That the witch managed to out smart Bella and trick Granger into taking the poison.

An empty house greets her, adding to her anger as she stares around. She triggers a charm jumping back as a figure appears before her. The beaming face of Francesca a smirk firmly planted.

"If you've returned I can only assume the witch is dead, at least I hope she is. You see Bellatrix, I would never help you keep that filth alive. My son, he was bitten by the beast Greyback many years ago. I watched him suffer every day with the curse until I ended it, the suffering. Put him out of his misery. I was strong, I expect you to be strong. If you stopped the poison however, it doesn't matter you have doomed her. She won't need the moon to turn now, she will turn whenever the beast rears it's the ugly head. She will never be safe and only then will you have to put her down like the filthy mutt she is. Never threaten my family again. Good luck Lestrange. I hope she eats you first."

The figure vanishes leaving Bella alone in the cold empty house, she should have slit the bitches throat. Furious, she sets fire to the practice, she may not have the witch but nor will allow the woman to return home. No, when this is all said and done, she will hunt down the mediwitch and make the actions on the Longbottom's seem a blessing.

The windows blow from the force of the fire, satisfied she watches the house burn, before apparating away. Allowed through the charms she hopes to find Granger waiting for her but disappointed to see the witch still passed out on the floor.

Checking the pulse, Bella sighs glad to find the witch still breathing she settles on the chair near the window. Watches the night arrive, dosing off to the soft breathing of the witch on the floor.

A shiver wakes her, stirring her from her deep slumber the hairs on her neck standing up. Cracking her knuckles, she rubs her eyes still night time. She wonders what has woken her, to disturb her sleep. The house is still empty nothing is moving, her wand still secured in her hand, but she remains awake.

The creaking of chains makes her freeze, the grating moving near her in the dark amber eyes gleam. Sucking in a deep breath she grips her wand heart pounding as the eyes move closer. The chains rattle at the movement can almost imagine how heavy they must be but they move easily. Slowly sitting up she stops as the moon gives light to the creature in the room. A snarling lip emerges from the shadows, a giant paw pads a few feet of her chair.

Fuck. She's huge, giant. It moves fully into the light the moon gleaming of the white fur, as legs flex. The face within inches of Bella's face, she watches as saliva drips to the cold floor.

"Granger," Bella greets quietly, swallowing as the eyes glint.

A manic grin spreads across Bella's face studying the creature in front of her, she has never seen a werewolf this big. This strong so calm, perhaps it's the poison she doesn't know, but she wants to stroke it. Her mind tells her to be scared that she should run, but another thought becomes louder.

"Your fucking beautiful," Bella whispers at the creature.


End file.
